


Kadō

by Luna_Lee



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Flower Language, GaaLee Fest 2019, Ikebana, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2020-11-01 10:29:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 38,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20813645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_Lee/pseuds/Luna_Lee
Summary: Gaara's new flower shop—a dream he's funneled every last cent of his trust into—brings him more than he could have ever hoped for: from his sister finding a business partner, to his brother finally overcoming his issues with intimacy, to more customers than he can handle, the shop is a booming success. But there's one thing the shop brings into his life that he never thought it would: unexpected, unrequited romance.





	1. Rikka

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow, I managed to get this first chapter done in time for late posting for the GaaLee Fest. It was a near miss. I got horribly sick this week, and I've been battling the ever present depression monster. But here we are! This piece is fully plotted—not fully written, sadly—so I know for a fact it's only going to be three parts. I'll most likely finish this before I finish the other pieces I did for the gaalee event this year, simply because it's all plotted out, but for the month of October, I want to try and do Wiptober and get a fic that I'd had slated for the Fest done. 
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys!

The little bell over the door chimed, as cheerful and bright as the flowers on display in the window. Gaara took in a deep breath, letting the smell of his flower shop overwhelm his senses and calm his nerves. 

It was opening day of the Nine Petals and everything was in perfect order.

The bell chimed again.

“Shit, it's freezing in here,” Kankurō grumbled behind Gaara. “Where's the thermostat?” 

“You can't turn on the heat,” Gaara snapped before Kankurō could go in search of the thing. “Cut flowers need to be kept cool.” 

“What the hell for?” 

The bell to the shop chimed once more. “Stop pestering him,” Temari snapped, carrying a box of pastries and a tray of drinks. “Hey, dumbass, take this,” she added, thrusting the box into Kankurō's chest with a wicked grin. 

“Where should I put these?” Kankurō asked with a wince, rubbing the spot where he'd been impaled. 

“In my office,” Gaara instructed, pointing to a door behind the counter. 

“So,” Temari began as Kankurō disappeared. “Are you excited?” 

“Yes,” Gaara said without a hint of expression. “Ecstatic.” 

“I never would have guessed. You're just overflowing with energy.” 

Gaara gave her a flat look. 

“Hey, you're the one who decided to go into customer service! Don't come crying to me if people complain that you're rude.”

“I'm not rude,” Gaara bit off. “I'm short.”

“No kiddin',” Kankurō said, coming back from the office. “Guess twenty-five is too late for a growth spurt though, huh?” 

“I didn't mean—”

“So what time do we open?” 

“Eleven.” 

“Why the hell are we here so damn early then?”

“You didn't have to come,” Gaara pointed out with a sigh. He appreciated his siblings' help, but there was such a thing as too much quality time with his brother.

“We wouldn't miss your big day,” Temari cut in before Kankurō could get another smartass comment in. “Is there anything we can do to help?” 

“Check all the arrangements. Everything in the fridges and all the displays need fresh water and food—and don't forget to add three drops of bleach to each one.” 

“So we gettin' a pay check for all that or...” Kankurō held up his hands at the looks Temari and Gaara shot his way. “Sor-ree! Sheesh, I forgot I'm the only one in this family that can take a joke.” 

“Maybe if you were actually funny,” Temari teased, sticking her tongue out at him. 

The three set to work preparing the shop for the grand opening. Gaara gave Kankurō the task of hanging the grand opening sign above the door before he could do any damage to the flowers or prick himself on the cactus display, while he and Temari tended to the plants themselves. 

Gaara had spent most of the previous day setting up the shop, but there was still plenty to worry about before it was time to officially open the doors to the public. Besides providing fresh, clean water for all the flowers, he also needed to go through and check petals and leaves for any signs of wilting, and re-cut the stems of every flower. After that, there was checking the cactus display, misting the displayed arrangements, and then there was checking his little greenhouse in back. 

In fact, as he was mentally checking his task list, he was beginning to worry that arriving at seven hadn't alloted them nearly enough time. 

“What happened to hiring someone to help you with this?” Kankurō asked an hour later, covered in water from a knocked over vase. 

“She's a part-timer,” Gaara said. “She's in school nearby, so she's only available late afternoons and early evening.” 

“You only hired one person?” 

“I wasn't sure how busy it was going to be and there wasn't a lot of interest. I can manage on my own for now.” 

“Well, if you need help, you know we're here for you.”

“I know.” 

His siblings had been there for him most of his life, and if it hadn't been for their support, his flower shop might still be just a dream. Nine Petals had started out as a half-baked idea when he'd dropped out of school in a fit of pique. He hadn't wanted to follow his dead father's plans for him, and he'd never felt drawn to anything in particular. Except plants. 

His specialty was cacti and succulents, but he'd spent most of his childhood and teen years loitering in greenhouses and local flower shops, so he knew how to care for just about anything. Local, foreign, drought-tolerant or not, he'd learned how to understand plants before he'd ever learned how to understand people—his siblings included. 

And once he'd thought up the idea for his shop, it hadn't let up. He'd catch himself daydreaming about it, imagining the displays in the windows, fantasizing about the arrangements he'd put together, and eventually, the longing for the quaint shop in his mind to become reality had overtaken his pragmatism. After some poking and prodding from Temari and some good-natured teasing to cover up a serious heart-to-heart from Kankurō, he'd begun funneling his trust fund into the business venture—the most satisfying part of which was the knowledge that his father's spirit would never know peace because of it. 

And now three years, six months, two weeks, and one day later, Gaara was opening the doors to his very own flower shop. 

“GAAAAHHH-RAAAA!!!” The familiar and grating voice of his long time friend echoed around the shop all the way to the greenhouses in back where Gaara was busy doing one last check. Somewhere in the shop, he heard something break. 

“Dammit, Uzumaki! Use your inside voice!” 

“Oi, oi! You're not using your inside voice!” Naruto crowed. 

“Yeah, but I'm not the one shattering glass with mine!” 

“I did not! You dropped it!” 

“Because you startled me!” 

“Both of you stop it!” 

Gaara rubbed his temples, relieved to hear Temari's voice cut through the argument. He made his way quickly from the cactus he'd been checking and back inside the main shop where disaster in the form of one Uzumaki Naruto had struck. 

His brother stood to one side, flowers and shattered glass at his feet; his sister was glaring from his office, the door of which had been thrown wide; Naruto stood in the midst of it all, arms folded behind his head as if he didn't have a care in the world. Behind Naruto, an unfamiliar, pale face peered at the chaos. 

“Naruto.” 

“There he is! The man of the hour!” Naruto stuck his tongue out at Kankurō before bounding towards Gaara. “Look at you! All dressed up in your cute lil' apron!” 

Gaara glared, smoothing his hands down his apron to wipe them of dirt. “Grab a broom and clean up that mess.” 

Naruto's smile slipped, turning into an exaggerated pout. “Awww, aren't you happy to see me?” 

“I'd be happier to see you if you hadn't made a mess.” 

“Don't be a dick, Naruto,” the pale-faced stranger said. “Compensating for what you lack in size won't endear you to anyone.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Sai.” 

Sai's benign smile didn't slip an inch. “Make me.” 

Naruto glared, but otherwise ignored this comment, turning back to Gaara. “So where's a broom?” 

“There ya go!” Kankurō slapped a broom into Naruto's hand, grinning with all his teeth. “And here's a rag! Make sure you get it all.” 

Naruto, despite his earlier theatrics, began cleaning up without further complaint. “So, how's it goin'? I can't believe you actually got this thing up and runnin'! I mean, you always loved plants, but this is really somethin' else.” 

“I'm fine—obviously,” he said, gesturing briefly around the room. It had been a long time since he'd last seen Naruto, but he couldn't say that his friend had changed much. “I've been focusing on this, so there isn't much to tell. How did you find out?” 

“Saw your post on Bijūgram, figured I'd stop by since I was in the area.” 

“Are you still studying abroad?” 

“Nope! Finished that up six months ago, but I started traveling with this jackass—” Naruto jabbed his thumb in Sai's direction, “—doin' the tourist crap, ya know?” 

“And you are?” 

“Oh shit, sorry. This is my boyfriend, Sai.” 

The shock of Naruto's revelation rang through the shop as silence, only the hum of refrigeration units and the tinkling of glass being swept up to fill the space. Sai continued to smile around the room, his expression somehow empty of emotion as he grinned at them all in turn. 

“Your... boyfriend?” Gaara repeated. 

“Whatever happened to Sasuke? Wasn't that the bastard you were into back at school?” 

Naruto's expression darkened and Sai's smile slipped. “I don't wanna talk about Sasuke.” 

Kankurō held up his hands, raising his eyebrows at Gaara pointedly. “Sorry, man, I was just confused.” 

“Well, congratulations on finding someone right for you,” Temari said, far too cheerful, a tense smile on her face. 

While Naruto hadn't ever been close to his siblings, anyone who knew Naruto knew about the drama that had unfolded between him and Uchiha Sasuke. It had been the main reason for Naruto's departure from Japan: escaping from the truth of his broken heart. 

Naruto forced out a laugh, dumping broken glass into a trash bin. “Thanks! Don't let this asshole's expression fool you. He loves me, doncha?” 

“Only for your dick,” Sai said sweetly, which—for whatever reason—made Naruto laugh. 

Gaara found the whole thing distressing. 

“Well, I'm glad you're happy,” he said, unsure if that was the right word. Naruto certainly seemed to be enjoying Sai's company—crude jokes and all. Perhaps that was just their dynamic? Maybe it was an inside joke? 

He shook himself. He didn't have time to worry about Naruto's love life. His shop was scheduled to open in—

“Shit, we open in twenty minutes. Is everything up here ready?” 

“Other than the arrangement Naruto busted? I think so.” 

Gaara looked to Temari. “Just finished up in the office. Don't worry, Gaara. It's gonna go perfectly.” 

“You want extra help?” Naruto asked. “Sai and I weren't doin' anything today.” 

“That's cause you wanted to bother Gaara,” Sai pointed out.

“Yeah, cause I haven't seen him in forever, ya know.” 

“We could use the extra help, right, Gaara?” 

Gaara honestly had no idea. A flower shop wasn't exactly an eagerly anticipated commodity and it wasn't as though he could expect a steady trickle of business throughout the day like a cafe or a restaurant. There was no telling how busy the day was going to be, but truth be told, he expected a slow day. He'd be lucky if they got a handful of customers. 

It didn't lessen the stress, but Naruto's carefree attitude might. 

“If you want to help that's fine, but don't break anything else.” 

Naruto gave a little salute. “You got it, boss!” 

Once Gaara had designated Naruto the official greeter and had set Sai the task of drawing on the chalkboard sign, he returned his attention to the greenhouse for the remaining twenty minutes before open, which flew by in a haze of misting flowers, checking soil pH, and double checking as many plants as he could for pests and rot. 

“Welcome to Nine Petals!” Naruto shouted out into the street at passersby, startling a gaggle of girls. 

“Naruto!” Temari marched over, grabbing him by his ear. “That's _not_ how we get customers!” 

“OW! OW! Le'go!” He yanked himself away, rubbing at his ear and glaring. “Harassing the help ain't gettin' you customers either, ya know!” 

“Just do it right!” Temari snapped, rubbing her temples. “Gaara, I know he's your friend, but I swear I'm going to murder him.” 

“Be my guest.” 

The first ten minutes the shop was open were quiet, except for Naruto and Sai's strange flirting that Gaara absolutely did _not_ understand. After twenty minutes of being open with no customers, Gaara's heart was firmly lodged in his throat and his father's voice was a relentless presence in his mind, berating him for throwing away money on a shop doomed to fail. 

“Welcome to Nine Petals, miss!” Naruto said at a surprisingly pleasant volume. “If you need any help, the owner of the shop is right over there with the red hair and the weird birthmark on his face.” 

Gaara tensed, forcing himself not to react too strongly to the sudden appearance of his first ever customer. 

“Oh, isn't this cute?” she said to herself, while meandering around the displays. 

Everyone else was silent, watching with baited breath as the woman shopped, almost as though they were all afraid that breathing wrong might send her scurrying away. 

“How much is this?” She held up a small potted cactus with a single bright orange flower atop it.

“Fifteen-hundred yen.” 

“Oh, they really are charging a lot for plants nowadays.” 

“The prices have gone up,” Gaara agreed, unsure if that was the right answer.

“Is fifteen-hundred really so much when you'll be getting such a lovely plant to brighten up your home?” Temari asked, sweet as could be.

The woman waved Temari away. “I'm sure your store's price is reasonable—after all, it is hard to find cactus in the area. The other flower shop doesn't have any.” 

“I specialize in cacti and succulents,” Gaara quickly jumped in. “I have a wide variety here and in my personal collection, and I can always special order something if you don't see it in store.”

“Well, aren't you accommodating. And this is the grand opening, is it?” 

“Yes, ma'am.” 

“Does that make me your first customer?” She winked at Gaara, making her way to the register. “I guess I can't say no to that. I'll take it.” 

“Do you need me to print out care instructions for this?” 

“Would you mind? This is actually a gift for a friend. She's a gem, but has no luck keeping plants alive. I figured a cactus would be much easier for her to work with.” 

Gaara pulled out his tablet and opened up the care sheet for the peanut cactus, sending it to print in his office before ringing up the woman's purchase. “They tend to be easier to maintain, but even cactus come with challenges. However, as long as your friend doesn't over-water it and ensures it's getting enough sunlight, she should be fine. Temari, can you grab the care sheet from the printer?” 

The peanut cactus was carefully placed in a bag with the care sheet and a complimentary bag of succulent food, and the woman left smiling. Gaara breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Your first customer!” Temari exclaimed, pulling him into a hug.

Gaara quickly pulled away from her before she could squeeze the breath out of him. “My only customer,” he pointed out. “Let's see how the rest of the day goes.” 

As the day wore on, more and more customers filtered in and out of the shop. Some stayed longer, chatting with Kankurō, Temari, or Naruto; some left quickly; some bought nothing; some bought small things. One customer in particular bought five different plants, three pots, and placed a special order for a Desert Rose which Gaara did not carry due to its toxic nature. 

By the time seven o'clock rolled around and Gaara was locking up the doors, he was feeling exhausted and elated. All of his fears couldn't be assuaged by one decent day of business, but it certainly made him feel more confident about his shop's future. 

“You're practically glowing,” Naruto cooed, reaching across the counter and into Gaara's personal space to pinch his cheek. Gaara swatted his hand away, probably with more force than necessary. “Well! How'd you do? Did you make bank?” 

Gaara finished printing out the receipts for the night, rubbing at the tender spot on his cheek. “We did well.” 

“That doesn't sound good.” Temari knew him far too well to be fooled by the simple statement. 

“It's under what our projected sales need to be.” He shrugged, but the disappointment sat heavy in his chest and his father's voice resurfaced, full of cruel mockery. 

“Hey, don't beat yourself up,” Kankurō said. “It's just opening day. I bet tomorrow will be better.” 

“And it was still a great day, ya know?” Naruto chimed in. “I bet you there will be people lined up around the block by the end of the week.” 

Naruto—ever the optimist—grinned, sure of himself and sure of Gaara. Gaara could only that he was right.

🌸🌸🌸

Nine Petals quickly became the talk of the town, and two weeks after opening, Gaara was busier than he'd ever expected. He was bombarded by special orders, by the mundane single red rose sales, by an influx of both wedding and funeral arrangements, and by an endless stream of questions about plant care. But most importantly, his cacti sales had beat his expectations, becoming the second most popular item sold, second only to the ubiquitous red roses. Gaara's shop had quickly gained a reputation for its unique business model, and his encyclopedic knowledge of cacti and succulents drew in customer after customer, all of whom had fallen for the recent succulent craze.

His life became a whirlwind of roses and cactus and plant care advice; broken pots and rootrot and soil tips; frantic men in need of something to make up with their girlfriends, and panicked brides-to-be, fighting back tears over the cost of floral arrangements for weddings. 

In no time flat, he realized that he would need to hire more help if he was ever going to have a life outside of work again. Though his siblings and Naruto—and sometimes Sai—were happy to help, he couldn't expect them to devote their lives to his business, especially when they weren't employees. He could only offer to buy them dinner so many times before he had to start cutting them checks, too. 

“I promise this will be the last time I ask for your help,” Gaara assured Temari as he put the final touches on a 'Help Wanted' sign. Earlier in the week, he'd placed an ad in the local paper, and just that day he'd made a post on Bijūgram at Sai's suggestion. With any luck, the popularity of his shop would draw in at least a few solid applicants. 

“Don't sweat it.” Temari misted a freshly cut arrangement that was scheduled for pick-up that day. “It's not like I've got anything going on right now.” 

“Aren't you looking for a new job?” 

She snorted, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, and that's going about as great as my love life.” She set aside the mister and picked up a tiny, cream-colored card on a stick, which she carefully slipped between the leaves and petals of the flowers. “Honestly, it's fine. I need a break from work—gotta reevaluate my life or some shit.” 

Despite her blasé tone, Gaara knew Temari wasn't happy with nothing to do. She wasn't the sort to just sit idly by, spending her days lounging about and living off of their father's money. Of the three of them, she was the most ambitious and the most suited for the high-stakes work their father had expected of them. Unlike Kankurō or Gaara, she'd found joy in law school. She relished sharp-witted discussions and the cutthroat court room dramas. 

And she liked helping people. 

Which was the problem: her old firm only helped those with means, and those were usually the sort of people Temari didn't want to help. 

“If you want, I can actually put you on my payroll,” Gaara offered. He knew the answer before he'd even finished speaking. 

“If you try to pay me with anything besides food, I will resort to fratricide.” She held up a pair of sheers, punctuating her statement by snipping at the discarded flower stems scattered before her. “Pay Kankurō if you gotta pay anyone—hell, pay Naruto if you actually think he'll stick around long enough, but if you pay me they won't find the body and I will get away with it.” 

“I just wanted to make sure.” Gaara eyed the sheers warily, keeping a careful distance between himself and Temari. While she certainly wasn't serious, Gaara knew just how sharp those sheers were and he didn't want to tempt fate. 

The bell of his shop chimed, fairy-light and cheerful. 

“Good afternoon,” Temari greeted, smiling with all her teeth. 

“Oh, this place is so cute,” cooed a woman with short, pink hair. She wore it up in a ponytail to show off the shaved underside and the heart etched into it. 

“Hey!” A woman with long, pale blonde hair followed her in, looking around with sharp, clear eyes. 

“What? It is.” 

The blonde woman huffed, her bangs fluttering in front of her face before falling back into place. “Okay, _fine_,” she snapped. “It's cute.” 

“Aw, pig, don't be mad. Your parents' shop is cute, too.” 

The woman—'Pig'—grumbled under her breath, sulking as she looked around. She peered closely at the cacti display, her exaggerated pout slowly disappearing as she got caught up in studying the many different varieties available. 

“If there's anything I can help you with—” Temari called. 

“Just looking!” Pig interrupted, not bothering to turn around. The woman with the pink hair threw an awkward smile towards the register as if in apology. 

“Rude much,” Temari muttered. 

“I heard that!” Pig spun around, hands on her hips. “So! Does that make you the owner?” 

“No. That would be him.” 

Pale and calculating, Pig's gaze snapped to Gaara, taking him in with a raised eyebrow. “You? So what do you know about flowers?” 

Well, that certainly wasn't what he'd expected. Pig stalked over to the counter, bottom lip jutting out in a judgmental pout. “Well?” 

“I know enough to open a shop, obviously,” Gaara quipped, trying to keep his usual monotone from sounding too rude. As well as his business had been doing, it hadn't been open long enough and one bad review—no matter how much said reviewer might deserve his ire—could ruin him. 

She grinned, sharp as the sheers in Temari's hand. “Oh? Everyone's an expert these days. Just because you were able to keep a couple cactus from dying doesn't mean you know the ass-end of a rose from a carnation.”

Temari snorted. “And who the hell are you?” 

“Ino. My folk's own Yamanaka Flower's. Perhaps you've heard of it?” Her gaze snapped from Temari back to Gaara. 

“No,” Gaara lied. He had heard of the shop, but it hadn't occurred to him that he should be concerned by its existence. 

“Hmph, I find that hard to believe. They've owned that shop for the last twenty-seven years. It's a local _favorite_.” 

“Your point?” 

“What is this? The flower mafia? Was he supposed to ask _permission_ before opening his shop?” 

Ino threw her head back and laughed until she was pink in the face. “Shit. I guess I am being a bit much.” 

“A bit?” the pink-haired woman repeated skeptically. “Ino, you're being a bitch.” 

“Isn't that the flower calling the fruit pink?” Ino flicked her friend's forehead, giggling at the grimace her remark earned her. 

“Please don't ever say that again.” 

“What? You mean you don't like my dad's flower puns, _Sa-ku-ra_?” 

“Ugh.” 

“Anywayyyy,” Ino drawled, voice sing-song. “Sorry for being a bitch. My folks wanted me to come check out the new competition. We've been hearing ah-llllll about your shop, and I think my folks are worried you're stealing our customers.” 

“It's not his fault your customers like this place better,” Temari jumped to defend Gaara. 

Ino waved her off. “Hey, I'm not the one upset about it. I love a good arrangement, but I'm not actually interested in taking over my parents' business.” 

“Then what the hell did you come in here all—” Temari struggled to find the words without being too crass, waving her hand in Ino's direction, indicating her entire person. 

“All 'flower mafia'?” Ino asked with a come-hither grin. 

“She's just a drama queen,” Sakura said with a fond roll of her eyes. “Her folk's know that, so they know exactly how to get her riled up.”

Ino smacked Sakura's arm, playfully. “You wound me. I like to think I'm not _that_ easy to wind up.” 

Sakura's cheeks turned a faint pink to match her hair, and a sly grin stole across her face. “Oh, no, definitely not.” 

“Well, if you're not going to buy anything...” Temari said, looking to the door. “You're gonna scare away our actual customers.” 

Ino gave an affronted gasp, holding a hand to her chest. “Me? Scare away customers? With my good looks and charm?” 

“I'll buy something,” Sakura offered. 

“Betrayed by my best friend!” 

“I think we found Kankurō's next girlfriend,” Temari muttered under her breath to Gaara, hiding an amused grin behind her hand. 

“Is there anything in particular you're looking for?” Gaara asked Sakura, ignoring the theatrics from Ino. 

“There was a cactus over here I really liked,” Sakura said, pointing towards the display. 

Sakura ended up buying a sweet little calico cactus that he'd special ordered from overseas. He had Temari print out the calico's care sheet, and offered to transplant the cactus into a larger pot for Sakura so she wouldn't have to worry about its spines. 

“Thank you so much,” she said, cradling her freshly-potted cactus some twenty minutes later. 

Ino had spent the entire time chatting with Temari. It turned out that they shared a similar interest in criminal justice, but both had found the actual system more than disappointing.

“Honestly, once I pass the bar, I'm not sure what I'll do. I was looking at jobs, but all the firms are shit and working for a non-profit isn't exactly going to cover my loans.” 

“It's a nightmare,” Temari agreed, misting yet another arrangement, this one for a funeral. “Honestly, quitting was probably the most productive thing I did at that firm.” 

“Where were you?”

“Suna Associates. It was shit. I knew it would be, but I thought it would at least be better than Kaze Legal.” 

“Really? But isn't Kaze like the top firm in the area?” 

Temari and Gaara shared a significant look across the counter. “Yeah, it is, and it's still shit.” 

“Good to know. Well, if you have any tips for the bar exam, let me know.” Ino reached across the counter, snatching up a pen to jot down her phone number. “Maybe we can grab coffee or something.” 

Next to Gaara, Sakura was pointedly staring at her cactus, her mouth pressed into a thin line. 

Temari pocketed the little slip of paper. “Sure. I can bring you some of my notes.” 

“You're a peach.” Ino winked, turning to Sakura. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Sakura muttered, turning and practically fleeing the shop. 

“Thanks again, and sorry about earlier.”

The door chimed, twice in succession, and then the shop fell silent. 

Temari met Gaara's gaze. “I think—I think she was hitting on me.”

🌸🌸🌸

“Th-thank you for your purchase. Please have a lovely day!”

His newest hire was a little too sweet and a little too shy for Gaara, but she had a gentle hand and, despite her shyness, she was good with customers. She had also been the only other applicant he'd liked besides his first hire. 

“Hinata, you can go on your lunch break.” 

Hinata squeaked—a habit Gaara hoped she broke soon—before bowing. “Th-thank you very much!” 

As she disappeared into the greenhouse, the bell chimed, signaling the arrival of another customer. 

It had been a slow morning, with only a few window shoppers and a handful of purchases, but Gaara could use the break from the whirlwind that had run roughshod over his life. 

“Hello!” a loud voice boomed through the store. 

Gaara, who was in the midst of working on an arrangement, nearly cut the flower's head clean off the stem, he jumped so high. “Welcome to Nine Petals,” he ground out, clenching his hands on the counter and staring down at the flower he'd nearly mutilated. “Please let me know if I can help you with anything.” 

“Actually, I would be incredibly grateful for any assistance! You see, I am in need of the perfect bouquet to express my undying love for someone.”

Gaara had to fight not to roll his eyes. He breathed in deep through his nose, counting down from five before looking up to find himself face-to-face with the widest pair of eyes he'd ever seen. The man attached to those eyes held an aura of earnestness that reminded Gaara of the heroes from Kankurō's favorite anime. His face was round and eager, and that eagerness was highlighted by the brilliant grin he sported and his wide eyes, which seemed to hold an impossible wonder in them. 

“What sort of flowers did you have in mind?” 

“Well, that is why I wanted to seek your council! I was hoping to express my feelings through flowers rather than words.” His broad grin widened, revealing the whitest and straightest teeth Gaara had ever seen. 

“I'm not sure I understand.” 

_“Hanakotoba!”_ the man declared, holding his arms wide. “I wanted to declare my love using Hanakotoba!” 

Gaara stared, nonplussed and unimpressed. “Is this a prank?” 

The man dropped his arms, his smile wilting like a dying rose. “Absolutely not! I would never interfere with someone's work, nor joke about matters of the heart! I truly wish to purchase a bouquet for the woman I love.” 

Gaara desperately wished he hadn't sent Hinata on her lunch break. 

“You realize most people don't know Hanakotoba,” he pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest. 

The man flushed, an awkward laugh escaping him. “I realize that, but what would be the point of the romantic gift of flowers if they did not _say something_! Anyone can give someone roses, that does not take thought or care! Not that roses are not beautiful! But—well, they are a bit common, and my love is anything but!”

Gaara couldn't deny that roses were far too ubiquitous to be truly special, but Hanakotoba was going overboard. “What about lilies? Or carnations?” 

“Do those have any particular meanings attached to them?” 

“I don't know.” Gaara had never considered studying Hanakotoba before. It hadn't seemed necessary, especially compared to knowing how to properly tend to flowers and run a business. 

“But—” The man's earnest smile turned into an earnest frown, disappointment settling heavily on his thick eyebrows. 

Part of Gaara's job was ensuring his customers found the perfect arrangement, after all. Sure, Hanakotoba was over the top, but he didn't want to lose the sale. What was the harm in learning something new? One extra special bouquet was hardly going to be back-breaking work. Finally, trying not to roll his eyes or sigh heavily in case his irritation became obvious, he picked up his tablet. “Let me see what I can find.” 

“Oh, thank you so much!” the man gushed, his smile returning full force. “I cannot thank you enough.” 

All Gaara needed was for the man to pay him—and maybe lower his volume. Thanks wasn't necessary. 

The tablet's screen loaded, an endless list of links proclaiming the best resources on Hanakotoba at the other end of each one. Gaara clicked the first list, his eyes widening as the scroll bar thinned. This was going to take a while. 

He dragged one dirt crusted finger down the screen. “Carnations have different meanings depending on what color you pick,” he began, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “And lilies...” 

The screen blurred as he scrolled faster. He paused, stopping with his finger hovering over the screen. “Lilies do, too.” 

“Do any of them have anything to do with romance?”

“A number of them do.” This wasn't the sort of thing Gaara could just throw together on a whim. Scrolling through the list, there were countless different meanings for countless different flowers, and arranging them incorrectly could have catastrophic results—assuming this woman even _knew_ Hanakotoba. Gaara highly doubted she did. 

“Would you be okay with waiting for the arrangement?” Gaara asked, setting the tablet down and summoning every ounce of patience he could fit into his body. “This will be a complicated order due to the research involved. I'd hate to provide you with something less romantic than what you're looking for.” Judging from what he'd seen already, it would be far too easy to make a mistake—for instance, a yellow carnation meant 'rejection', but a red carnation meant 'admiration'. All in all, if the same flower of a different color could mean such contrasting things, there was simply no way to trust that a quick search would yield positive results.

“I am so sorry for the inconvenience. I did not realize it would be such a troublesome project.” 

“It's fine,” Gaara said, waving off the comment and the man's instant change in expression. “What's your price range?” 

“Money is not an option! Not in matter's of the heart!” 

It was a nice sentiment, but love wasn't going to pay Gaara's bills. 

“A basic arrangement of a dozen roses is around nine-thousand yen,” he said flatly. While he did hate to burst the man's bubble, he couldn't make an arrangement only to discover the funds weren't there for it. 

“Nine—nine-thousand—oh, dear, that _is_ quite a lot,” he said, a severe frown on his face. He pulled out his phone, tapping the screen several times. The tip of his tongue poked out from between his odd little mouth, his expression growing more and more severe as the moments dragged on. “I—well, love is certainly worth it, but I may need something a bit less expensive. Perhaps, five-thousand?” 

“I can work with that. Write down what you were hoping to say, and I'll have it ready for pick-up in a week.” He retrieved an order form from behind the counter. “Don't worry about payment right now. I won't be able to give you an exact price until I've made the arrangement, but if you could include your contact information in case I have any questions...” 

The man dutifully filled out the order form, his prominent brows drawn down as he carefully filled in each field. The pink of his tongue appeared again as he concentrated on each careful stroke of the pen. It took him thirty minutes—Gaara was almost anxious to read whatever flowery declaration the man had written—before he finished with a flourish and a sigh. 

“That should do it! Thank you again so much!” 

Gaara accepted the clipboard, keeping his gaze firmly on the man, prolonging the moment when he would see exactly how big a challenge awaited him. “It's no trouble. We appreciate you choosing Nine Petals for such an important arrangement. I'll be in touch.” 

After bidding the man goodbye, Gaara looked down at the clipboard, holding his breath. The man's handwriting was impeccable—if he hadn't watched him fill out the form, he might have thought it had been printed out—and the phrase he wanted Gaara to express through Hanakotoba was more poem than an actual declaration. 

At the tail end was a small thank you and a smiley face, followed by the man's name in blocky katakana: Rock Lee.

🌸🌸🌸

Gaara stared at the arrangement, judgment heavy in his gaze.

He'd spent the entire week agonizing over it—hours at the local library, hours scrolling through blogs and websites, hours checking and double checking his supplies. At first, he hadn't cared that much. He'd intended to put together the simplest bouquet he could, dumbing-down Rock Lee's ridiculous request to a basic 'You are beautiful' and 'I am infatuated' over the exaggerated half-poem he'd left behind on his order form. 

But then Gaara had become enamored with the intricacies of Hanakotoba, with the delicate changes in meaning from flower to flower, color to color, variety to variety. 

It was a challenge, however. Some flowers didn't have any meanings ascribed to them, and some had so many different meanings that it almost seemed meaningless. What was the point in giving a flower the meaning of 'in love' but also 'perishing with grace'? Why did cactus, with all their variety, have only a handful of meanings, as if all cactus and their flowers were interchangeable? Why were some yellow flowers romantic and some not? Why did the Victorians have to make their flower language so damn complicated? And why weren't there more comprehensive references for Hanakotba itself? 

By the time he'd begun preparing the bouquet, he'd gone overboard planning and laying out the arrangement. He'd sketched out several different options, writing Rock Lee's absurd declaration over and over, comparing each possible bouquet with the words he wanted to express. Gaara had written the words so many times that he'd memorized them, and when he looked at the final product, he could see those words as plainly as if the characters were staring him in the face. 

“Your radiance has captured my heart. I am sincere in my affection, though patient in my approach. With respect, I hope to someday reveal myself to you.” A small smile found its way onto his face, but he quickly forced it down. It was _silly_. And there was simply no way that Rock Lee's intentions would shine through unless the object of his affection was fluent in Hanakotoba _and_ Victorian flower language. 

The bell above his door chimed, its gentle tinkle echoing around the empty shop. 

“Welcome to Nine Petals,” he greeted, turning to see Rock Lee. 

A shining smile lit up his face, like the bright taiyo sunflower within the arrangement waiting for him. “Good morning, Gaara-san!” 

Rock Lee seemed to buzz with excitement, striding towards the counter with purpose, expectation in his face. “I hope my order was not too much trouble.” 

Gaara had to bite his tongue to keep from saying anything. “Not at all,” he lied, then added, “It was... fun, actually. I've never bothered looking into Hanakotoba before. I had to branch out a bit and use Victorian flower language as well, though. I hope that's all right.” 

Lee's eyes landed on the table behind Gaara, their roundness growing somehow more pronounced as he stared at the waiting flowers. “Is that—is that it?” 

“I did say I enjoyed the project.” Though it had proven extra work, and he'd certainly gone over Lee's intended price, Gaara hadn't had quite that much fun working with flowers before. He usually found flower arrangements bland and uninteresting, with most people preferring common arrangements of roses, carnations, or lilies. 

He still found the whole thing ridiculous, but he couldn't deny the joy he'd felt when he'd finally settled on the perfect arrangement.

“That—that looks expensive.” His large eyes slid from the peach blossoms and the zinnia at the very center to the hawthorn, white camellia, and wisteria around the exterior. Lee glanced back to Gaara, worrying his lip. “I mean, it is gorgeous! And I sincerely appreciate your efforts, but that cannot possibly be in my price range!” 

Gaara ignored this, turning around and removing the bouquet from its vase. 

“It wasn't that expensive,” he lied, wrapping it in paper. It had been double the cost of Lee's request, but Gaara took pride in his work. He wouldn't settle for a less than perfect bouquet. How could his customers count on him to help them with their romantic endeavors if he half-assed even one bouquet? “It was only five-thousand over, and I can afford to eat the cost. We've been doing well here.” 

A delicate flush suffused Lee's cheeks, his smile growing. “You are too kind,” he said with a bow. “I cannot accept such a generous offer! If it was only five-thousand, I can afford that.” 

“Are you sure? It's my fault for going over your price point. I got carried away.” 

“Your passion for flowers could not be overcome! I should have realized such a request would excite you! Next time, I will be more thoughtful.” 

Next time? How many bouquets was this man planning to buy? 

“I appreciate your continued business,” Gaara said automatically. 

An enthusiastic thumb nearly collided with his face as Lee overshot his extended arm. He quickly dropped his arm, holding his hands before him. “I am so sorry! I promise I will return again when I am ready to deliver my next bouquet! Here you are.” 

Gaara took Lee's offered credit card, quickly ringing him out for his purchase. “Good luck,” he said, handing Lee his receipt. 

“With a bouquet like this, I am sure I will not need it!” 

Gaara watched Lee leave, carrying the bouquet with the utmost care, as though it were an infant. 

Whoever would be receiving that arrangement was lucky, indeed. Though Gaara had scoffed at the idea, he certainly couldn't deny that Lee's genuine care for a truly romantic gesture was endearing, charming even. If someone went to such lengths for him, he would be hard pressed not to fall for them. . 

The rest of the day went by in a blur of roses and carnations, of funeral wreathes and dying cacti unprepared gardeners had purchased from the local grocer. Gaara's mind drifted from the plain bouquet of roses he'd found himself bombarded with back to Lee's elaborate declaration. 

He left work early, leaving Hinata to close up. 

At home, he poured over his sketches of Lee's order and skimmed through his notes, idly drafting up new arrangements for display in his shop. Lee's joyous smile flashed in his memory, bright like sunflowers and sweet like honeysuckle. 

Gaara shook the thought away, trying to focus on his work. 

By the time he went to bed, he'd sketched out three new display pieces: a sunflower arrangement, a gardenia arrangement, and a honeysuckle arrangement. If there was some significant meaning to them, well, Gaara didn't need to worry about that right now.

🌸🌸🌸

He dumped the old water from the honeysuckle arrangement, washing the vase thoroughly.

The sunflower and gardenia arrangements that he'd displayed had been retired two weeks after he'd put them together, their petals browning and falling despite the floral wax he'd used to prolong their life. The honeysuckle, however, was still holding out.

He turned over one of the flowers in his hand, checking the petals and breathing in their sweet smell. They weren't likely to last much longer, but he wanted to prolong the inevitable, at least for a few more days. 

Somewhere at the front of the shop, he heard the little bell chime and Hinata's soft voice. 

“Welcome to Nine Petals.” 

“Hello!” a familiar voice echoed, carrying into Gaara's little greenhouse. Unbidden, a smile found its way onto his face. 

“How can I help you?”

“I was actually looking for—Gaara-san!” Lee's smile was as vibrant as Gaara remembered, but everlasting unlike the sunflowers he'd first found himself comparing it to. 

“Welcome back,” Gaara greeted. “Hinata, could you finish up in back for me?” 

Hinata bowed, disappearing into the greenhouse. 

“Was your bouquet a success?” Gaara asked, turning back to Lee, who's smile only grew in response to the question. 

“It was more than a success!” He fished his phone out of his pocket, unlocking its screen and tapping it vigorously. He held it out for Gaara after a moment, showing him a photograph of the bouquet—it was a screenshot of a post on Bijūgram, the text filled with hearts and cherry blossom emoji from user SuckerPunch. 

“It seems she was pleased,” Gaara noted, frowning at the photo. “Have you told her it's you yet?” 

“No!” Lee declared as though this was a wonderful revelation. “And I have returned with another request!” 

“You want another arrangement?” Gaara looked past the phone's screen to Lee's grinning face. 

“Precisely! And I had a brilliant idea!” He began tapping the screen of his phone with such exuberance Gaara worried for the screen's durability. “My father was telling me about Ikebana! Have you heard of it? It is an incredible art form—even generals practiced it throughout history! It is a discipline my father has studied, because he said it goes hand-in-hand with the discipline of martial arts! It has been practiced for centuries, and there are various schools—” 

As Lee rattled off more facts, delivered as though he'd memorized them from a textbook, Gaara realized with mounting dread that Lee didn't just want to use Hanakotoba for his next arrangement.

Fighting down a groan, he made for the tablet behind the counter where he promptly unlocked it and began searching for resources on Ikebana, as Lee continued to ramble, rapid fire. 

“Do you have something particular you want this arrangement to say?” he asked, cutting into Lee's impromptu lecture on the history of Ikebana. 

“I did have something in mind,” he said tentatively, barely contained excitement making his voice crack. “But only if you are sure it will not be too much trouble! And I have doubled my price range this time!” 

Gaara paused in his perusal of his tablet, glancing up at Lee. “Really?” 

“Absolutely! I worked overtime the last two weeks, so it will not be a problem!” 

That would certainly make up for the loss Gaara had taken on the last bouquet, and if Lee's arrangements kept ending up on social media, it was sure to draw in more customers. He grabbed an order form and passed it to Lee. 

“It'll take some time while I look into Ikebana,” he reminded Lee. 

“Love is always worth the wait!” Lee declared, taking the form and beginning to fill it out with much the same precise gusto as he had the first time. He spent more time filling it out, however, stopping every so often to hum or mutter to himself, and sometimes to ask Gaara for his input. Even Hinata had left for the day in the midst of Lee's diligent writing.

“I'm not really a romantic,” Gaara had to explain some forty minutes later when Lee had sought his advice yet again over a minute detail that no one except perhaps the two of them would ever notice. 

“But—but how? You work in a flower shop!” 

“I enjoy plants,” he said simply. “They're... easy.” 

“Easy?” Lee asked. 

Gaara avoided Lee's inquiring gaze by busying himself with an order of roses—so dull compared to Lee's extravagant plans. He could feel Lee's eyes on him, trapping him like a carnivorous plant trapped unsuspecting critters. Finally, he muttered into the soft, red petals, “Easier than people.” 

The bell over the door chimed, signaling the arrival of another customer and saving Gaara from the look on Lee's face. 

Gaara quickly excused himself from Lee's company, helping the new arrival to pick out a congratulatory arrangement for her sister's engagement. He could still feel Lee's eyes on him every so often, but eventually Lee left, waving a silent goodbye and leaving behind his order form on the counter, an additional 'Thank you' at the tail end of the form.

🌸🌸🌸

The dull artificial lights from the street illuminated the window displays of the otherwise dark flower shop. However, a sliver of white light slipped through the cracks in the office door.

Nine Petals had closed an hour earlier, but Gaara had long since forgotten the time as he'd lost himself in the spiraling tunnel of internet research. Ikebana, unlike Hanakotoba, did not have various origins, but it did have various styles, and there were countless schools the world over, offering Gaara a plethora of information to sift through. From articles to blog posts to photo collages, there was no shortage of information. 

In short, it was overwhelming work. 

The clacking of the computer keys echoed around him as he opened up a new search, but the sudden ringing of his store's phone startled him, and he hit enter before he'd finished typing. 

“Hello?” he snapped into the phone, holding it between his ear and his shoulder so he could continue his research. He paused as a phrase on the screen caught his eye. 

“Where the hell are you?” Kankurō's irritated voice crackled through the landline. 

“I'm at home,” he said dully. 

“Smartass. I mean: why the fuck aren't you here? You're late.” 

“Late?” Gaara stared at the cursor hovering over a link, trying to remember what he could possibly be late for. 

“Temari's dinner? You know, the one she's been talking about all week and how she's got a big announcement?”

“Shit,” Gaara hissed, pushing away from the desk to look at the calendar on the wall behind him. “I'll be there as soon as I can.” 

“Why the hell are you still at the shop anyways? It's almost nine.” 

“Research.” 

“What the hell for?” 

“A customer. Just give me ten minutes.” 

Kankurō cursed under his breath. “Fine, but you better get here soon.” 

“I promise,” Gaara said before hanging up. 

He turned his attention back to his monitor, clicking the link he'd stumbled upon through his botched search: Ohara School of Ikebana. The page loaded to reveal colorful blocks of text with more links to different parts of the site. His eyes landed on an orange box, which he eagerly clicked. As the page loaded, a small smile found its way onto his face. 

There at the top was what he'd been looking for: the admissions application. 

Twenty minutes later, Gaara hit the submit application field and began packing his things for the night. A stray thought, unbidden and accompanied by a little thrill of excitement, wormed its way into his mind: maybe Rock Lee would want to join him in studying Ikebana.

🌸🌸🌸

A fine mist rained down over the flowers in his little greenhouse, gentle as dew at dawn. Gaara checked the water pressure gauge one last time before returning to the front of the shop where Matsuri was wrapping a bouquet for a custom order.

“Hey, Boss!” Matsuri greeted, her cheeks a faint pink as she smiled up at him. She held out the bouquet for inspection, still beaming. Her smile wasn't as broad or as bright as Rock Lee's, and it didn't remind Gaara of sunflowers or honeysuckle. 

Gaara gave a perfunctory nod of approval, accepting the arrangement for further inspection. It was similar to the one Lee had ordered, filled with pops of color and flowers of different shapes and sizes, but the arrangement itself was less specific. Whoever had ordered it hadn't considered what the flowers they'd picked were saying. 

With a final once over, Gaara placed the arrangement in a vase, already filled with water. He called over his shoulder, “Did you put the drops of bleach in this?” 

“Yes, sir!” Matsuri answered. “Three drops, as instructed.” 

Gaara set the bouquet in the refrigeration unit, just as the bell above the door sang. 

“Helloooo!” a familiar voice trilled. Gaara glanced over his shoulder as Ino, followed by Sakura, entered. 

“Welcome to Nine Petals,” Matsuri greeted with a bow. “How may I be of assistance?” 

“We're just looking for the owner—oh, and there he is!” Ino skipped over, stopping abruptly and leaning forward, just shy of entering his personal space. “We have a bit of an emergency.” 

“Is Temari okay?” 

Ino scrunched her face up. “Do you think I'd be this happy if your sister—_my_ business partner—weren't okay?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes and flipping her hair. “No, it's nothing like that. It's Sakura's little cactus—she's not doing so good.” 

Ino motioned for Sakura, who was holding the cactus close, shame coloring her cheeks. “I'm so sorry, Gaara. I promise I followed the instructions you'd printed out for me, but it's still... well...” She held out the cactus, biting her bottom lip. 

Gaara frowned down at the shriveled side of the cactus. “It needs more water,” he said simply. “Is this a different pot?” 

“Oh, um, yes? I transplanted it last week.” 

Gaara checked the bottom of the pot for drainage holes, and movement in the window caught his eye. Rock Lee was standing outside, staring into the shop, his face red as the roses Gaara sold. “This pot won't offer good enough drainage,” he said, watching as Lee made his way inside. “What happened to the pot I'd transplanted it into?” 

The chiming of the door drew Ino's gaze, her eyes narrowing as Lee bounded in. “Well, well, look who's here.” 

“I-Ino-san! It is so good to see you!” 

Gaara stared between Lee and Ino, a strange tension suddenly rising like the humidity in his greenhouse. 

“Lee-san?” A soft smile spread across Sakura's face, and her cactus was momentarily forgotten. “What are you doing here?” 

“I—oh, I was just passing by and I saw—I saw this really beautiful display!” Lee said quickly, pointing to a random arrangement. He gave an awkward laugh, blindly picking up the vase from its shelf. “I was just thinking about getting something to brighten up the kwoon!” 

Gaara watched the exchange with narrowed eyes, glancing from Ino's pinched expression to Sakura's gentle smile to Lee's bright red face. 

“Really?” Sakura said, eyeing the arrangement. “Are you sure that will... fit?” 

The arrangement Lee had picked up was an array of vibrant daffodils, yellow tulips, and gardenia. Gaara had made the arrangement to replace the sunflowers that had died, and he wondered if Lee had purposefully picked that particular vase, knowing its meaning, or if he'd simply grabbed one at random. 

Doubting that Lee wanted to make the purchase, Gaara interrupted. “That one's already been sold. I should have set that aside, excuse me.”

He handed Sakura back her cactus, taking the arrangement from Lee, and moving it to the counter where Matsuri was frowning at him. 

“That hasn—”

“If you would like to special order something like this,” Gaara said heavily, talking louder than necessary to drown out Matsuri's words, “I would be happy to recreate it for you.” 

“O-oh, of course! Thank you so much!” Lee bowed so deeply and so quickly Gaara worried he might lose his balance. 

“Do you do a lot of special orders?” Sakura asked, a thoughtful look crossing her face. 

“I do,” Gaara admitted, handing Lee the order form. “Was that something you'd be interested in?” 

Sakura waved off the comment, shaking her head. “No, no. I just ask because I recently received a rather... unique bouquet,” she explained, glancing askance at Ino. “I didn't really think about it at the time, but it must have come from your shop.” 

Gaara fought not to look at Lee. “Really? Do you have a photo? As I said, I do a lot of custom orders.” 

Sakura pulled her phone out, still watching Ino from the corner of her eye. Ino remained oblivious, watching Lee with predatory contemplation. “Here it is.” 

Gaara didn't need to see the photo to know exactly what arrangement she'd been talking about. “I do remember this one. It was an interesting project.” 

“You don't happen to remember the name of the person who ordered it, do you?” Ino asked archly, her eyes narrowed on Lee, who's nervous energy Gaara could feel radiating off of him.

“It was an anonymous order, actually.” 

“Really?” Sakura didn't sound convinced. “What about their credit card? Or what they looked like?” 

Sakura wasn't going to let this go, clearly. “Unfortunately it was paid for in cash, and I didn't take the order myself.” 

“Miss, did you happen to take this order?” Sakura called, waving her phone in Matsuri's direction. 

“O-oh, boy! I just remembered,” Lee blurted. “I am running late for class! I really must be going! It would be a travesty if I kept my students waiting!” He shoved the blank order form into Gaara's hands, booking it from the shop with such haste several vases shook on their shelves near the window. 

“I'm so sorry, but I wouldn't know if I took that. I don't know flowers nearly that well, I only put arrangements together when Boss has left instructions.” 

Sakura's shoulders slumped, the determined glint in her eyes fading. “Dammit. Well, if you get another order from this person, could you... let me know?” 

“I can't give out customer information. Is there a reason you're so concerned?” 

“I was just... hoping to find out who it was.” She sighed heavily, glancing down at her tiny cactus. “Oh, that's right! My cactus! So I just need to give it some water?” 

“And drill a bigger hole in the bottom of that pot before you do. This type of cactus needs better drainage.” 

“I'll get right on that! Thank you so much.” 

“We'd better get going,” Ino said. “I've got a meeting in an hour, and don't you need to get to the kwoon, too?” 

“See you later, Gaara!” Sakura called as she and Ino made for the exit. “Lee-san would cover for me if I was late. He's always so helpful.” 

Ino's lip curled. “Yeah, I'll bet.” 

The little bell chimed as they left the shop, and the rest of their conversation was cut off as the door closed. 

Gaara watched Sakura's retreating back through the window, his heart oddly heavy in his chest.

🌸🌸🌸

“I am so incredibly sorry about yesterday!” Lee said, bowing deeply. “I had no idea you knew Sakura-san! I hope I have not put you in an uncomfortable position.”

Lee's imploring gaze was filled with unshed tears, his lip trembling with the threat of overwhelming emotions. Gaara tore his gaze away from Lee's, returning his attention to the roses he was working with. 

“It's fine. She's more a customer than a friend. Ino and my sister are business partners now, though.” 

“I heard all about Ino's new business! I did not realize it was with your sister.” He frowned, deep and thoughtful. “Sakura-san does not seem to like her very much.” 

“Sakura doesn't like my sister?” Gaara asked, accusation in his tone.

Lee held up his hands. “I mean, it is nothing she has said! She just... has an expression when she talks about Ino's business partner. I am sure it is nothing!” 

Gaara narrowed his eyes at the roses, picking up his rose stripper and swiping it down the stems of each rose with a little more force than necessary. 

“Um.” Lee watched Gaara with some trepidation before continuing, “If you do not want to take any more orders from me, I would understand.” 

Gaara slammed the rose stripper onto the counter, snapping his gaze up to Lee's. “It's fine,” he insisted, heart suddenly pounding. He didn't want Lee to go to another florist, even if the thought of making pieces for Sakura made his stomach curdle with dread. He didn't dislike her—although, if she had something against his sister, he might start to—but for some reason, the thought of Lee giving her yet another thoughtful arrangement set his teeth to grinding. 

“If you are sure,” Lee said doubtfully.

“I signed up for Ikebana classes,” Gaara snapped. He'd wanted to tell Lee the previous day, but with Sakura in his shop and Lee's sudden departure, he hadn't had the chance. “I'm... excited about your next project.” 

The tears in Lee's eyes spilled over as he smiled. “Really? Oh, I am so pleased! That sounds so exciting!” 

“You could—” Gaara swallowed his beating heart, forcing it back into his chest. “You could sign up, too. The class doesn't start for another couple weeks.” 

The smile on Lee's face threatened to split his face in two. “I would love to! When is it?” 

“Saturdays at noon.” 

Lee's smile faltered, his shoulders slumping. “Unfortunately that interferes with one of the classes I teach at the Kwoon. But I could pay for your classes! I mean, you are only taking them because of me, after all!”

“That's not necessary. I'll be able to use Ikebana for other customers, so it will pay for itself. And it's not that expensive. The books I bought were more—you don't need to pay me back,” he hastened to add. “I bought them because I'm interested in the subject.” 

“If you insist.” Lee put his wallet away and his smile returned, softer this time. “But please let me know if this is becoming at all inconvenient for you.” 

“It's not,” Gaara assured him. “You're a paying customer, and it's interesting work.” 

Which was true, but a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach made him feel as though he were lying. He avoided Lee's gaze as he finished up the last of the roses, picking them up and placing them into a bucket of fresh water. He bent to pick it up, but as he made his way around the other side of the counter, Lee blocked his path. 

“Here, let me help!” He took the bucket from a surprised Gaara, carrying it carefully to the refrigeration unit to keep the water from sloshing around. 

Gaara shook away his shock, making for the unit and pulling the door open for Lee. Something warm took root in his heart as he watched Lee's sweetly smiling face turn to him as he passed through the door into the cool unit. His own face warmed, his eyes fixed on Lee's back as he set the roses on the empty riser. 

“There!” Lee announced, clapping his hands and turning that sunflower bright smile back on Gaara. “I should be going. My next class starts at 3:30, and I would hate to be late!” 

“Is your kwoon far from here?” Gaara asked, looking at the clock on the wall. There was an hour until Lee's next class, so there was no reason for him to rush. “I was hoping we could discuss your arrangement for Sakura.” 

That was a bold face lie. Gaara didn't even want to think about the arrangement.. 

“I wish I could, but I have to get everything cleaned up. Plus, I like to do my own warm-ups before I start teaching. I could come back tomorrow if that is all right?” 

“I'll look forward to it.” 

The next day, whenever the bell over his shop's door chimed, Gaara's heart immediately began racing. He'd catch himself spacing out, his mind drifting from an order to something he could make for Lee, and then suddenly the little bell would sing through the shop, and he'd jump, his heart immediately in his throat. 

By one, he was starting to think that Lee wouldn't show up. He didn't want to say he was disappointed, but he couldn't deny that something heavy had settled over the roots in his heart—like too much water in a cactus pot. He moved through the day on autopilot, trying not to look at the little bell over the door.

The jingling of the door, as he disappeared into his greenhouse, felt like it was mocking him. 

“Welcome back.” Hinata's timid voice carried behind Gaara into the backroom.

“Good afternoon!” Rock Lee's voice hit Gaara like a bag of dirt dropped on his head, and he whirled around to stare at the closed door with wide eyes. “Would Gaara-san happen to be in?” 

“He's just in the greenhouse,” Hinata answered. 

“Is—can I go back there or...?” 

“O-of course! It's just through that door.” 

Gaara quickly moved away from the door, towards a workbench where he'd been re-potting new arrivals to the shop. As Lee's footsteps approached the door, Gaara, desperate to look busy, shoved his arms up to the elbows into a bag of soil. The door opened. 

“Gaara-san?” Lee poked his head into the room, peering around, his wide eyes growing wider and his mouth falling open. “Oh, wow,” he breathed in awe. 

“Lee?” Gaara called, voice cracking. He tried to calm his racing heart and infuse his voice with as much of a cavalier tone as he could muster. 

“There you are!” Lee beamed, stepping into the greenhouse and closing the door behind him. “I am so sorry to be so late. I unexpectedly had to sub for Sakura-san—she has to study for a medical exam. Did you know she is in medical school? It is such an admirable field! And to think she is supporting herself while studying!” 

Gaara clenched his fists in the dirt, staring hard at the empty pots beside him. “That's... great.” 

“Anyway, I brought us lunch! I hope you have not eaten yet—I probably should have asked, but I thought I would treat you as a thank you for all your hard work! Do you like curry?” 

Gaara blinked in surprise at the bags of take-out hanging in front of his face, then stared past to Lee's expression. He had a boyish charm about him that Gaara hadn't noticed before, too overwhelmed by his exuberance. The roundness of his face and the earnestness in his eyes softened the intensity of his eyebrows and highlighted the sweetness of his smile, while the wideness of his eyes made him look forever startled and the shape of his moth made him look just a little bit odd.

Lee leaned closer, the smile on his face taking on a concerned edge. “You do not like curry, do you?” 

Gaara quickly pulled his hands from the bag of soil, showering their feet with clumps of dirt and sending detritus flying at Lee. “I'm sorry,” he said quickly. “And I do like curry.” 

With a nervousness that he couldn't explain, he cleared a space for Lee to set their food down before washing his hands thoroughly. 

“It is so beautiful in here,” Lee breathed, once he'd finish setting out the plethora of food he'd brought. “I did not realize you had an entire greenhouse back here!” 

“I don't have the space at home,” he explained. “So when I was investing in my business, I figured it would be a good excuse to build myself one.” 

“You must know so much about plants.” Lee picked up a bowl of curry, popping the lid off to check the contents. “I bought a few different things because I did not know what you would like, so please pick whatever is your favorite. I am not super picky, so I will eat whatever you do not want.” 

“Thank you,” Gaara said, sitting down next to Lee on the bench, their thighs bumping as he arranged himself. Lee certainly had bought more than enough food. It seemed a bit unreasonable for two people to eat everything he'd bought, but Gaara could always take some home so that Lee's kindness wouldn't go to waste. He picked up a container that ended up being filled with curry bread, and then another container of curry rice. 

“Do you have more classes today?” Gaara asked before taking a bite of the bread. He watched Lee from the corner of his eye as he shoved curry into his mouth. 

“Mmph,” Lee said with a nod. He swallowed heavily. “But my next class will not be until six, so I have plenty of time!” 

“After we eat, we can go over the arrangement.” Gaara didn't want to ruin his meal thinking about Lee's overly romantic gesture for Sakura. “How long have you been teaching Kung Fu?” 

Lee paused, scrunching his face in thought. “Since I was eighteen—I only taught one class then—so nine years!” 

“So you were a student there?” 

“I still am!” Lee gave Gaara a thumb's up. “No matter how much you have mastered, there is always more to learn! That is what my father always said. He owns the Kwoon—he actually inherited it from his father! So it has been in the family for some time!” 

Gaara much preferred the sound of Lee's family business to his own family business. 

“What about you? How long have you been working with plants?” 

“My whole life,” Gaara said quietly. He hoped Lee had forgotten about his comment and subsequent evasiveness the other day. He didn't want to get into his childhood difficulties and all the troubles of his home life. “I prefer cacti to flowers, though.” 

“Really?” Lee asked, tilting his head. “Why is that?” 

“They're strong. Hardy. They can survive so much and still produce flowers of their own and bear fruit. I guess, I find them a bit...” His face warmed and he looked away from Lee. “I find them poetic.” 

Beside him, Lee sniffed. “That is so beautiful! I had never considered cacti in such a way! I always thought they were kind of—well, boring.” 

Gaara prickled, glaring at Lee from the corner of his eyes. “There are over 2,000 varieties of cacti. There's nothing boring about them.” 

Lee's answering grin was sheepish and cheeky all at once. “You will have to teach me all about them then! I am sure I could learn to appreciate them.” 

Gaara's irritation diminished, a small smile fighting its way onto his face. “I could."

Lee suddenly leaned forward, directly into Gaara's personal space, his eyes alight with excitement. “Do cacti have different meanings? Like how red roses can mean something different from white? Or how different colored tulips mean different things.” 

“No.” Gaara had been endlessly annoyed at discovering that cacti, though there were a handful of meanings, were not categorized by type within any of the flower languages he'd studied. It was absurd, and had Gaara been more poetic or a better writer, he might have tried creating his own cacti language. 

“But why not? Surely if there are that many types, there would be a wealth of things to be said with them!” 

“I haven't the faintest idea.” 

“Well, do they have any meaning at all?” 

“Lust.” 

Lee's face turned beat red and he reeled back, clapping a hand to his mouth to cover up his gasp. “O-oh my.” 

“In the west, they mean chastity, however. There are other meanings, too,” Gaara added. “Endurance, grandeur, warmth. And the flowers can have their own meaning. Burning heart or a love that does not wither...” 

“That is so powerful,” Lee whispered, leaning his head in his hand and staring up at Gaara. The fathomless black of his eyes made Gaara feel tangled up in a thicket of thorns, shredding away at everything until he was laid bare.

He tore his gaze away from Lee, swallowing. “It doesn't matter what sort of flower it is though—at least, I couldn't find any clear sources.” 

“If it is in matters of the heart, perhaps it should be a red flower?” 

“That would make the most sense.” 

“I do not think I would use a cactus to express my feelings to Sakura-san,” Lee said idly, stirring at his curry rice.

“She bought a cactus from me,” Gaara admitted. “That's how I first met her and Ino.” 

“Ino-san is how I heard about your shop actually. She was complaining about it to Sakura-san before class one day.” Lee smiled down at his food, soft and sweet. “I remembered thinking it was the perfect chance to buy something special for Sakura-san. I could never go to Ino-san's family shop.” 

Gaara watched Lee, unable to take his eyes off that smile. “I'm glad you came here.” 

Lee looked up at him, his cheeks a soft pink. “Me too.” 

The roots in Gaara's heart seemed to grow, thrumming with warmth and spreading deeper into his soul. 

The rest of the late afternoon slipped away over bowls of curry rice and idle conversation in the humid green house, sitting on a dirt covered, creaky wooden bench, legs bumping every so often. In the end, they both forgot all about the arrangement Lee had come to discuss.

🌸🌸🌸

Packaging littered the floor of his small apartment, forgotten entirely as Gaara poured over his newly opened books. He had to leave for his first Ikebana class shortly, but he'd become absorbed in reading the moment he'd sat down. His cat, Shukaku, gave a gravely meow, his massive weight thunking heavily against the mattress of his futon as he landed next to Gaara.

“I know,” he muttered, reaching out to pat his head. “I'm leaving soon.” 

He hadn't managed to find a single book on Hanakotoba, but he had found a few books on Victorian flower language. However, his true prize had been unearthing a plethora of books on Ikebana, and he'd ordered more than was strictly necessary. When the books had arrived on his doorstep, he'd forgone leaving early in favor of opening his package. 

Shukaku meowed again, which was all the warning Gaara had before he traipsed across Gaara's stomach, his massive weight winding Gaara. 

“Fuck,” he growled, sitting up and tossing the book he'd been reading on the low coffee table. “Jackass.” 

The screen on his phone lit up as a new message arrived. He snatched it up, his eyes wide as he caught sight of the time. He jumped from his seat, grabbing his bag and his keys before booking it to the door. 

“I'll be back soon!” he called to Shukaku, pocketing his phone and slipping his shoes on. 

Thirty minutes later and ten minutes late to class, he burst through the door, sweating slightly and breathing hard. “Excuse me,” he apologized. “I got lost.” 

“A late arrival,” the instructor said, giving Gaara a steely stare. “Please sit down.” 

Gaara collapsed into the only empty seat at the back of the classroom, next to a man with round, chubby cheeks and a bag of chips hidden from view. 

“Want some?” he whispered to Gaara, offering him the open bag. 

“No, thank you. Did I miss anything?” 

The man shook his head. “Not much. Yamato-sensei was just about to go over the materials we're gonna need. Here, you can look at this.” He pushed a sheet of paper between them. 

“Since today's the first day of class,” Yamato was saying at the front, “I wanted to discuss the tools you'll need, what you'll be learning with this course, and finally to go over the history of Ikebana. If we have time, I'll do a quick demonstration and take questions.” 

He paused, looking around the room, slightly wide-eyed but unnervingly straight faced.

Gaara skimmed the handout, looking over the tools he'd need. Some of them were things he already had at the shop—scissors, a double-edged knife, plenty of options for bowls and vases, and a wealth of plant life to chose from—but the one thing he did not have was a kenzan. 

“If you've had the chance to go over the items you'll need, you'll notice that I've included some recommended reading—this is not mandatory, just there for reference. Apart from the books, however, everything else on this list will be necessary. I have here with me all the tools you'll need for visual reference.”

The next ten minutes, Yamato spent going over each tool briefly, holding each item up for the class to see, and offering recommendations for where to buy the items. Gaara's attention slipped away from the teacher's descriptions of each item, and he pulled his phone from his pocket as he remembered the text he'd received just before bolting from his house. 

He flipped his phone open and a smile turned the corners of his mouth, gentle as curling petals. 

**Good luck today! I cannot wait to hear all about what you learn!  
-Rock Lee**

Even Lee's text messages were formal, Gaara couldn't help but think, a quiet laugh escaping him on a warm puff of air.

“—if you'll turn your attention to the screen,” Yamato's voice pulled Gaara from his contemplation of Lee's message. “Feel free to take notes, but they aren't necessary. There are no quizzes or tests on this.” 

With that, he began an hour long lecture, complete with powerpoint on the incredible and long history of Ikebana, from it's beginnings in the seventh century to its modern practice. Finally, he gave a brief overview of the many styles, before handing out instructions for their first assignment, which they would work on during their next class. 

“By the end of this class,” Yamato said, returning to the front of the room, “you will have learned the rising form and inclining form of Hana-ishō. Next class, we will practice the basic free-style, so be prepared. Look for materials that speak to you, think about what you want your piece to represent. Remember, your arrangement should be beautiful and happy, so think carefully about the items you want to arrange.

“And, unfortunately, that's all the time we have for today. However, I did bring a ready made example piece,” he added, bending down to pick up an arrangement and place it on the table. “I made this yesterday using cuttings from my own garden. As you can see, the arrangement does not rely only on blossoms, but rather the entire plant, so you experience nature fully. Note that none of the materials are facing downward—this would make the piece look sad—and pay close attention to the space they create.”

Gaara stared, entranced by the simple beauty of the piece. It sat in a flat, square base, with a small peach blossom branch shooting up, curved in such an artful way that Gaara had to wonder at Yamato's luck to find such a branch. The arrangement fanned down, introducing Narcissus leaves in shorter lengths, curling in beautiful patterns. At the front, the shortest of the pieces, was a beautiful lotus flower, its pinkish-white petals fanned out in radiant beauty. 

It was breathtaking.

He couldn't wait to tell Lee all about it. 

“And on that note, I leave you with this quote: 'Ikebana does not exist independently by itself, but as a link in the whole universe, each part of which is endlessly connected with another.' Think about that as you begin your journey into the art of Ikebana. Dismissed.” 

Around Gaara, everyone packed their belongings. The chatter of his classmates filled the room, a steady thrum of voices, all on the periphery of his senses as he stared at the lotus blossom, sitting so beautifully in its container. 

“That was interesting,” the man beside him said, crumpling his empty bag of chips. “Guess we'll start learning how to do this next week, huh?” 

Gaara muttered a noncommittal answer, gathering himself up and heading to the front of the class. 

“Ah, the late arrival. What can I do for you?” Yamato asked, packing up his tools. 

“I was just hoping to take a photo of this,” Gaara said, holding up his phone. “I have a friend—he was going to take the class with me, but it interfered with his schedule.” 

“By all means.” Yamato inclined his head, sweeping his hand in welcome. 

Gaara carefully snapped several photos, before pocketing his phone, offering his thanks, and leaving the room, his mind buzzing with ideas. 

The next day, Gaara arrived at Nine Petals in a mood that bordered on chipper. He'd spent the night after his class reading his new books and dreaming up new arrangements for the shop, thinking all the while about Lee. He couldn't wait to tell him about the class and to show him the photos he'd taken of Yamato's example piece. 

“You're in a ridiculously good mood today,” Temari said, dropping lunch on the counter before him. 

“Am I not allowed to be?” Gaara asked as he added the finishing touches to an order. 

“No, I was just wondering what's got you so... upbeat?” 

Gaara snorted a laugh, raising a skeptical brow in her direction. “Upbeat?” 

“You were humming when I walked in,” she pointed out. “You'll want to cut that out before Kankurō gets here. He'll think you've gotten laid or something.” 

Again, Gaara snorted, casting another disbelieving look at his sister. “Hardly. Besides, Kankurō gets around enough for the both of us. He doesn't need to be concerned with my love life.” 

“My ears are burning,” Kankurō said over the sound of the bell chiming. “Don't tell me my little brother—my sweet, innocent baby brother—is asking for dating tips.” 

It was Temari's turn to laugh, shaking her head in mock annoyance. “No, we were just discussing your continued issues with intimacy.” She opened the bag of take away, digging around inside for their food. “You really ought to sort that out one of these days, you know.” 

“I was planning to,” Kankurō said, taking the offered food from Temari. “But then I met this total babe at a local flower shop and I—”

“No,” Gaara groaned. “No, no, no, _no_. You are _not_ allowed to date my employees.” 

Kankurō's crooked grin told Gaara that this warning had come too late. “Um, okay, so moving forward, I will not date your employees.” 

Temari slapped him upside the head before Gaara could ask her to. “What the hell? Are you trying to give Gaara a hard time?” 

“Hey!” Kankurō snapped, rubbing the back of his head. “It wasn't like I meant to! But you can't blame a guy! A cute girl with a rack like that—”

“You went out with _Hinata_?!” Gaara gasped, a mix of horror and shock coloring his usual monotone. 

“I don't believe it.” Temari pinched the bridge of her nose before rolling her eyes skyward. “Please, tell me you didn't sleep with her.” 

“Okay, I didn't sleep with her.” 

“You jackass!” Temari yelled, swatting him again. 

“Hey!” Kankurō ducked behind the counter to put distance between himself and her blows, but Gaara's glare sent him scampering around to the other side once again. “Come on! It's not like I was using her!” 

“Is she going to end up quitting because you broke her heart?” Temari asked, hands on her hips.

“What? No! It's not like that! It was—it was just a—it wasn't anything. I told her I wasn't lookin' for anything serious, and she isn't either!” 

“And I'm supposed to believe that after all the notches on your bedpost?” 

“Don't believe me! Believe her! You can ask her yourself! She's workin' today, right?” 

“Yes,” Gaara said with a heavy sigh. “She is. And if, when she gets here, she looks even marginally upset by your presence—”

The bell to the shop chimed as Rock Lee held it open for none other than Hinata. 

“—small world!” Lee exclaimed. “I had no idea that you were Neji's estranged cousin!”

“It—it is rather surprising,” Hinata said, meek and sweet. Her eyes immediately landed on Kankurō and her cheeks turned a fair shade of pink. “Ka-Kankurō-san!” 

“Yo!” Kankurō greeted. “How's it goin'?” 

Hinata's smile, shy and nervous, did not speak of heartbreak—yet. “I am well. And you?” 

“Oh, ya know? Just getting' harrassed by my big sis.” He stuck his tongue out at Temari, who was watching the exchange with bated breath and a hard glint in her eyes. 

Gaara's gaze slid to Lee, who was grinning at him from over Hinata's shoulder. A smile found its way onto Gaara's face, and all his concerns over losing an employee vanished. 

“Lee,” he greeted. 

“—was just tryna explain—” Kankurō stopped short, glancing back at Gaara. 

“Good afternoon, Gaara-san!” Lee separated himself from Hinata, moving to the counter where lunch was still steaming. “I see you are already eating lunch! It is a good thing I did not decide to pick anything up on my way here.” 

“I was hoping you'd stop by today.” Gaara pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and pulling up the photos from the day before. “I had the Ikebana class yesterday—”

Lee all but squealed with delight, clapping his hands excitedly. “How did it go!? Did you learn a lot? Did you get to make something?” 

“It was good, but we didn't make anything. We went over its history and the teacher brought in one of his pieces to show us. I took some pictures.” 

As he handed the phone to Lee, he caught Temari's eye. Her eyebrows had risen high on her forehead and her mouth was parted in a silent 'oh'. On his other side, Kankurō was also watching him from the corner of his eye, while listening to Hinata with half an ear. 

Gaara shifted, suddenly uncomfortable with the weight of his siblings' gazes on him. He cleared his throat, gathering up his food to keep busy while Lee looked through the photos. 

“This is... gorgeous,” Lee said, breathless with wonder. “Oh, I wish I could take this class with you! I bet you are going to learn so many amazing things!” 

Gaara swallowed down his nerves as he unpacked his lunch. “I can teach you some things—once I know how to do some of the basics. I'm not a master, but I'm sure I could... show you.” 

As he spoke, the weight of the eyes on him grew heavier and heavier, making his skin grow hot with embarrassment. He looked up at Lee, meeting his earnest gaze, which was much closer than he'd expected. 

“Would you really?” Lee enthused. “I would love that! And then maybe I could make Saku—uh, I could make my own arrangement sometime!” He flushed brilliantly, glancing discreetly at their audience. “I was actually hoping to discuss that with you today, but if you are busy I can always come back.” 

“I was just about to have lunch,” Gaara said, simultaneously reluctant to see Lee go and eager for an excuse to avoid discussing his plans for Sakura's next gift, which he'd put off for weeks now under the assumption that this class would help him make a proper piece. “Would it be too much trouble to come back later?” 

“Not at all! I really should have called first,” he said, more to himself than to Gaara. “Perhaps I will go for a run!” 

There was a strange gleam in Lee's eye, his mouth turned down in a serious frown, as though running were the challenge of a lifetime. 

“I'll only be half an hour, maybe forty minutes,” Gaara said. 

“Then I shall run twenty laps around the park in that time!” He gave a decisive nod and then, with a glittering smile, gave Gaara a thumbs up. “I shall see you in forty minutes!” 

Gaara watched Lee march back out onto the street, walking with a purpose that seemed unnecessary for an afternoon jog. Once Lee was out of his sight, he gathered up his food. “I'll be in my office if you need anything, Hinata.” 

He made a beeline for his office, hoping to avoid his siblings inquiring gazes, but Temari beat him to the door. 

“We'll join you. Right, Kankurō?” Temari said, giving Kankurō a pointed look over Gaara's shoulder. 

“Oh, absolutely, sis,” Kankurō said, slapping his hand against Gaara's back. “Quality family time and all that. Later, Hinata!” 

Once the office door was closed, Temari shoved Gaara into his seat and took his food from him. “Spill.” 

“What the hell?” Gaara snapped, reaching for his stolen food. 

Temari held it out of his reach. “Nuh-uh. You gotta tell me what that was about.” 

“What what was about?” 

“Don't play dumb,” Kankurō drawled. “It's never suited you. Who was that?” 

“A customer,” Gaara said flatly. “He's having me do special arrangements for a woman he's interested in.” 

“Right, special arrangements. I see, and that whole—” She waved a hand in circles, gesturing towards the shop-proper. “That was just, what? A casual exchange? Between a proprietor and a customer?” 

“Yes.” 

“And that lil' smile you got on your face when he walked in? You smile at all your customers like that?” 

Gaara opened and his closed his mouth, feeling suddenly foolish. “I was being nice! He's a regular!” 

“Regular my ass. You've got a _crush_.” Temari said the word 'crush' with such relish Gaara almost wondered if she weren't enjoying this. 

“I do not,” he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. 

“'I can teach you Ikebana, Mr. Customer. Oh, let me teach you Ikebana',” Kankurō said, high and pitchy.

“I don't talk like that.” 

“No, that's Hinata,” Temari parried with a cheeky grin. “But you did look smitten. Come on, Gaara, don't hold out on us. We're family,” she whined. “I thought you said you didn't have anything going on!” 

“I _don't_,” he said heavily. “I told you. He's a regular. He's only here to buy flowers for the _woman_ he likes, that's it.” 

Temari and Kankurō shared identical looks of concern and disbelief. “So you don't....” 

“No,” he bit off. “Can I eat my lunch now?” 

“If you say so...” Kankurō caught Temari's eye and nodded towards the door. “Welp, I guess I'll take my lunch out there.” 

“Real slick,” Temari muttered, bopping him on the back of his head.

“Oi!” He swatted her away. “I'll be outta your hair once I'm done eating,” he called slipping from the office. 

Temari glanced over her shoulder at Gaara, a worried frown on her face. “You sure there's nothing going on there?” 

Gaara only glared in response, and Temari, knowing when to push and when to leave well enough alone, slipped from his office. 

Alone and in the silence of his office, a knot formed in his stomach as thoughts of Lee crowded his head and his siblings' impromptu interrogation rang in his ears. He shook himself, trying to dislodge the word 'crush' and all its connotations from his mind, trying to rid himself of Rock Lee's sunflower smile and the roots that had grown around his heart. 

It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. 

There was absolutely no way he had a crush on Rock Lee. 

Less than an hour later, his head still crowded with thoughts of Lee, the bell to the shop chimed. Gaara's heart responded immediately, beating like a hummingbird's wings. 

“Is Gaara-san still busy?” Lee's familiar voice asked. 

“He should be out shortly,” Hinata said. 

Summoning every ounce of courage he could, Gaara rose to his feet and opened his office door. 

When his eyes found Lee, the hummingbird was caught, trapped in a thicket of thorns. 

That sunflower smile, that honeysuckle sweetness—how had he not realized it sooner? 

He was a fool. An absolute fool. 

And he was definitely going to kill his siblings for bringing his foolishness to light.


	2. Moribana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From flowers to feelings, everything's starting to pile up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost exactly a year later and I'm finally updating. I haven't forgotten any of the fics I started for last year's GaaLee Fest, but my life definitely went in a different direction toward's the end of last year and fandom became a lesser priority for me in a big way. 
> 
> While fandom does have a more periphery place in my life now, I am still planning on updating fics and producing new fic content when I can! I decided to start with this fic because it's one of the shorter fics, and now it is officially done. I'll be posting the final chapter next Saturday (9/12), so there won't be a long wait between this update and the next! I'm hoping to do that with the other fics I need to update, but I'm not making any promises about updates right now because again, fics aren't my priority. 
> 
> I hope everyone is staying safe in the midst of Covid19 and being safe if you go to any protests. The news has been incredibly overwhelming this year so I hope that this fic can offer you a moment of reprieve in the midst of everything. 
> 
> **trigger warning for this chapter:** minor alcohol use

The roses he'd sold Lee—plain, pink, uninteresting—ended up on Sakura's Bijūgram, accompanied by far too many hearts and the tag-line “Who are you?” 

Gaara wished there was a 'dislike' button. 

He also wished he'd left the thorns on the roses, but his pride in his work hadn't allowed that. And it wasn't as though he didn't like Sakura. He didn't know her particularly well, but she was nice. Nice, pretty, and she liked Kung Fu. Why wouldn't Lee like her?

Gaara could like Kung Fu. Sure, he'd never been particularly flexible or coordinated, but he could try it out. Not that it would change anything. Not that it would make him feel less wretched over the revelation that he had _feelings_ for Rock Lee. Not that anything would. He plucked a wilted petal from the yellow tulip he'd been staring at for the last ten minutes. 

Stupid yellow tulips. Stupid flower language. Stupid unrequited love. 

He should close up shop. It was ten minutes to close, but he doubted anyone was going to come in this late, and in all honesty, he wasn't in the mood for customers. He crushed the rest of the tulip's petals—it wasn't going to last anyways—and cut the head from the stem, making his way out front. He dropped the tulip's petals into a trash bin near the backdoor, turning off the main lights to the greenhouse.

“Hinata, I'm closing up early. You can head home.” 

“I can stay to help close,” Hinata said, blushing as she always did whenever anyone so much as looked at her. “I-I'm waiting for—for your brother, actually.” 

Gaara forced down a groan. He was going to kill Kankurō, he really was. 

Determined not to make Hinata feel uncomfortable—after all, Kankurō was the biggest flirt Gaara had ever met, so he couldn't fault Hinata—he offered a smile and his thanks. It would make the close faster, at least. 

Gaara went to lock the door, but just as he reached it Rock Lee's familiar face appeared in the glass, grinning for all he was worth. He waved to Gaara, fingers waggling with the earnestness of his greeting. 

“Gaara-san!” His voice echoed from the other side of the door, as clear as though they weren't separated by a pain of glass. “I had hoped I would make it before you closed.” 

Gaara forced down a sigh, pulling the door open. 

“What brings you by this late?” He'd already talked to Lee at length about Ikebana, he'd already sold Lee roses to satisfy his desire to gift Sakura something new. What fresh hell could Lee possibly have for him this close to closing time? 

“Oh, nothing really. I was just passing by and wanted to say hello! Are you closing already?” Lee frowned at the keys in Gaara's hand.

“I have a headache,” Gaara lied. “I decided to close up a few minutes early.” 

Concern turned the corners of Lee's mouth down, his thick brows scrunched above his wide eyes. He stepped closer, that same earnestness in every pore of his face as he met Gaara's gaze. Gaara felt trapped, pinned like an insect in a display case. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Lee asked, the tenor of his voice pitched lower than usual. “Have you taken anything for it? I might have something in my locker at the Kwoon—”

“No, no, it's—it's fine. I'm just going to close up and head home.” 

Lee seemed to worry the inside of his cheek, a hollow forming on one side of his face and his lips pursed with disapprove over Gaara's plan. “Then can I help you close?” 

“Um, I guess.” 

He could kick himself. What was Lee going to do? And why was Gaara putting himself through this? Indulging in quality time with Rock Lee was only going to make whatever feelings he had that much stronger. 

“Great! What can I do?” 

Gaara floundered for a task. “You can—check the flowers in the fridge. Make sure they have plenty of clean water. Each bucket has a number on it—if you see a three, then that water needs to be changed today. The sink's over there—” Gaara pointed behind the counter, “—and you can refill the water in there as well. The flower food and bleach are under the cabinet—only add a few drops of bleach to the water, though—”

“Bleach?” Lee asked, his expression caught between confusion and horror. “Will that not kill the flowers?” 

“It keeps the water clean, actually. Helps them last longer.” 

“That is brilliant!” 

“I'll be in back doing the books if you have any questions.” Gaara wanted to chop himself up into little pieces and become fertilizer for his own plants, but he'd take hiding out in his office in the interim. 

Behind them, the door to his shop opened and the little bell chimed. 

“Yo!” His night was getting better by the minute: Kankurō had arrived just in time to witness the embarrassing showcase of Gaara floundering around his crush. 

“Hinata, if you want to go—”

Hinata gave a little squeak, blushing until she looked like the roses on display. “I-I can stay to help! I don't mind.” 

“Yeah, no rush,” Kankurō agreed. His gaze landed on Lee, eyes alight with mischief. “I see you got a customer.” 

“Lee's just helping us close.” 

“Oh, free labor. I gotcha. Guess I could help, too. Make things go faster.” 

“Sure,” Gaara said, trying to keep his tone light. “You can mist the flowers on display.” 

Kankurō gave a cheeky two fingered salute. “On it, boss.” 

Gaara took the opportunity to make his escape. He quickly closed out the register and printed out the night's closing receipt before disappearing into his office and closing the door. It took him longer than usual because, between Lee's presence and Kankurō's dull drawl and Hinata's random, nervous giggles, Gaara couldn't concentrate. 

At least by slogging through the receipts for twenty minutes he was able to keep himself relatively safe from Lee's presence and Kankurō's inevitable teasing.

In the main part of the shop, Kankurō was busy distracting Hinata from sweeping, his arm around her waist as he absentmindedly misted the arrangements on display. 

“Are you done?” Gaara asked, snapping the question. 

“Yeah. Sorry.” Kankurō gave him a cheeky grin, twirling the mister in his hand. “I promise we got everything."

Gaara cast a skeptical look at Kankurō, but decided against pushing the matter. Lee was standing in the walk-in, apparently talking to himself as he checked the second-to-last bucket of flowers. He gave a decisive nod, patted one flower ever so gently, and turned around, catching Gaara's eye. The smile he sent Gaara's way made his face burn. 

“Soooo,” Kankurō drawled, watching Gaara. Hinata had disappeared to fetch her things. 

“Don't.” 

“I'm not doing anything. I'm just...” He glanced towards the walk-in, a pointed look on his face. After a beat, he said, “Temari wants us to go out to dinner tomorrow night. Pre-celebratory kinda thing. Her and Ino got the space for their firm.” 

“She didn't mention that earlier.” 

“Only just found out a bit ago,” Kankurō said with a shrug. “Said she didn't wanna make a big deal out of it yet, but Ino's ready to throw a party over it.” 

“So dinner tomorrow night?” 

“Yup. Sis wants us there, and she said you could bring a date... ya know, if you had anyone in mind.” 

Gaara glared and was on the verge of reminding Kankurō that he did _not_ in fact have anyone in mind, when Lee opened the door of the walk-in, rejoining them in the shop where he could hear everything. Gaara snapped his mouth shut. 

“I'm bringin' Hinata,” Kankurō went on, as though Gaara weren't in the process of threatening his life with his gaze. “You should bring someone—a date, or just a friend,” he added, ever so subtly. “What about Bowl-Cut over here?” 

Lee looked up, pointing at himself in confusion. “Me? What about me?” 

“You wanna come to dinner with us tomorrow night? We're celebrating our sis landin' an office space for her new law firm.” 

“Law fir—oh! Your sister is working with Ino-san!” 

“You know Ino?” 

“Absolutely! She is Sakura-san's best friend.” 

“Sakura...” Kankurō glanced to Gaara. “Oh, right. The one with the pink hair. She your girlfriend or somethin'?” 

The flush that suffused Lee's face was damning, and the uncomfortable laugh proof solid of his hopes. “O-oh, goodness no! N-nothing like that! I mean—Sakura-san is wonderful! I would be very lucky—but no, no, of course not. She and I are just friends—co-workers! She works at the Gung Fu Kwoon with me!” 

“The what?” 

“The—it is like a dojo, but we teach Kung Fu.” 

“Got it. Well, if you're free tomorrow night, you should come.” 

“Oh, I would hate to impose—”

“'S'not an imposition if you're invited.” 

“Would you mind, Gaara-san?” 

Once again, Gaara was trapped by Lee's gaze and the expectation within. He shook his head, managing a quiet, “No.” 

“Great! Then I shall be there! Where exactly is 'there', by the way?” 

“Gaara can text you the details,” Kankurō offered. “Right, Gaara?” 

Gaara ground his teeth. “I'd be happy to.” 

Lee's smile slipped a fraction. “If it is a problem, I do not—”

“No,” Gaara hastened to say. “No, please. I don't mind.” 

The smile on Lee's face didn't look confident, but he gave Gaara a thumb's up. “Then I should make sure you have my number!” 

While Lee jotted down his phone number—which Gaara could have easily gotten from his various receipts—Hinata returned from gathering her things, her make-up touched up and her hair freed from its ponytail. For a casual fling, she and Kankurō seemed to be spending quite a lot of time together. 

“Have a good night,” Hinata said with a bow. As unlikely as it was, Gaara wondered if she would stop being so formal if her and Kankurō ever did become serious.

“There!” Lee declared, handing his phone number to Gaara as the bell chimed again, his brother and Hinata leaving. “I do hope it is not an imposition.” 

“It's not,” Gaara assured him. “I—I'm glad you'll be there.” 

“Thank you for—well, I guess your brother invited me, but thank you for agreeing to it.”

Gaara wasn't even sure what he'd agreed to—getting to know Lee more; a night out with a friend; agonizing torture.

“I—” Gaara didn't know what he'd meant to say, and quickly changed tactics. “Thank you for your help tonight.” 

“It was my pleasure,” Lee returned, his smile muted only in breadth. 

Gaara was going to regret his next words, but Lee's smile drew them from him before he could stop himself. “Do you need a ride home?”

🌸🌸🌸

Ino had made a reservation at Ninja Shinjuku, which was not exactly the casual celebration Temari had been hoping for. The restaurant was themed, and given the name Gaara could guess at what the theme was. Kankurō, of course, ate the whole thing up—themed restaurants were a favorite of his.

Gaara had decided to forgo driving to the restaurant given the crowds in the downtown area, and Lee had agreed it would be easiest if they just met there. Gaara did his best not to work himself up into a nervous frenzy over the fact that Lee had been invited.

“It's not a date” became his mantra leading up to the dinner. The fact that it wouldn't be just himself and Lee was, perhaps, the only reason he didn't completely panic. 

The train ride to the restaurant gave him the chance to calm down, work himself up, and then calm down again, so that by the time he arrived at the restaurant—where everyone was already waiting because of course he was late—he'd convinced himself that he was being an over-dramatic fool. Of course this wasn't a date. Lee was wooing Sakura, and so long as Gaara didn't act any differently towards him, Lee would be none-the-wiser. 

The fact that he'd have to see Lee with Sakura tonight, however, did make his stomach knot. 

“There you are,” Temari huffed. “They'll give away our reservation in the next ten minutes. Hurry up.” 

“Where's Sakura?” Gaara asked, frowning at the gathered group. Ino and Temari were there; Kankurō and Hinata were there; and of course, Lee was there, standing just off to the side, looking slightly out of place, but present. Sakura was no where to be found. 

It was Ino's turn to huff. “Sakura couldn't make it. Something about exams.” 

Gaara held in his sigh of relief at the news. He was sure Lee would be disappointed, but spending an hour watching those two flirt was not how he wanted to spend his evening. 

“Come on,” Temari said with finality, ushering everyone inside. 

The entrance just fit the six of them. There was a little shop selling merchandise—colorful toy shuriken, banners, what looked to be miniature katana (though Gaara was probably wrong about the type of blade)—and the hostess, welcoming them. Beside her was a small robot, dressed in an all black ninja costume. It's large eyes stared blankly at them as they filed into the room. 

“Welcome to Ninja Shinjuku!” the hostess greeted. 

At Gaara's side, Lee nudged him. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Gaara returned, his earlier nerves resurfacing and his face burning. “I'm glad you came.” 

“Me too. I was worried Sakura-san might be here,” he added conspiratorially. “I do not know if you had realized this, but I am a terrible liar. It would have been difficult to keep secret that I was the one who had bought her all those flowers.” 

Gaara had hoped they could avoid talking about Sakura. Clearly, his hope had been misplaced. 

“—going to guide you through our hidden ninja village,” the little robot was saying near the hostess, drawing their attention and saving Gaara from having to answer. The little robot's arms began to move as it spoke in its tinny automated voice, “Rin. Pyo. Toh. Sha. Kai. Jin. Retsu. Zai. Zen.” 

Behind the robot, the wall slid open, the little ninja sliding along with it. A dark passage was revealed to their party, where a man waited on the other side, dressed traditionally and holding a paper lantern with the restaurant's logo. 

“They really go all out here,” Lee whispered excitedly. “It must be so fun to work here.” 

“It's certainly not your average dinning experience,” Gaara muttered, while up ahead Kankurō took the lead, far more excited by the theme than he was willing to admit out loud. They followed their guide along a dark path leading down to the dinning area, an almost obstacle course before their meal. They passed a waterfall as they moved farther along the path, where a light shone from within, illuminating glittering coins. Then they were forced to stop as they reached a broken pathway and their guide had to lower a secret bridge for them to continue on their journey. 

“I bet it would be so exciting being a ninja,” Lee whispered directly into Gaara's ear, so close his breath ghosted Gaara's neck. 

Gaara swallowed thickly, goosebumps rising on his skin. “Uh huh.” 

“Do you think you could do something like that?” 

Gaara shook his head, the ghost of Lee's warmth keeping his tongue tied. 

“I bet I would be a great ninja,” Lee went on, oblivious to Gaara's predicament.

“Uh huh.” 

They arrived in a private dining room, surrounded by high walls and much better lighting than the passageway they'd been forced to enter through. They certainly had gone all in for the theatrics. 

Grateful to finally be out of the tight space, Gaara took his seat, leaning away from Lee as he sat down beside him. Temari sat on Gaara's other side, while Kankurō, Hinata, and Ino sat across from them.

“It's a pre-selected course,” Ino told them as their server—dressed as a ninja, with even the lower half of his face covered—handed Lee a single menu with the course description. Ino added with a gleeful clap, “We're getting the kunoichi course.” 

Gaara looked over Lee's shoulder, reading the menu as their server began to explain the center piece of their table. 

“The shuriken are edible,” the server said, grasping the wooden spears on top of which black crackers in the shape of throwing stars had been situated. “The sticks are not edible.” 

Plates of spread, also in the shape of shuriken, were passed out to each of them before the server disappeared. He returned promptly with a clear glass bottle and cups, which he passed around and began to fill. 

“Oh, I do not drink,” Lee said, as the man began to fill his glass. 

“It's just water.” 

Lee's shoulders relaxed, and he smiled abashedly. “That is fine then.” 

“Why don't you drink?” Kankurō couldn't help but ask. 

Gaara watched from the corner of his eye as a flush rose up the back of Lee's neck.

“Don't be so nosy,” Temari said lightly. 

“I'm just curious!” 

“It is all right,” Lee interjected. “Alcohol simply does not agree with me.” 

“I don't like to drink much either,” Gaara said, coming to Lee's rescue. “I usually only have a cup of sake if there's a celebration.” 

“Well, I hope you're planning on having a cup tonight,” Ino said. “This _is_ a celebration.” 

Gaara hesitated to say 'yes'. While he didn't mind having a drink to celebrate his sister's success, he wasn't a heavy drinker and alcohol usually went straight to his head. It had been a long time since he'd last had a drink, and he hadn't had a crush on anyone then.

“Don't worry. I'll drink extra for ya,” Kankurō offered, coming to Gaara's rescue now. 

“You'll take any excuse to drink,” Temari pointed out. “That hardly counts.” 

“I-I could drink for you,” Hinata offered, not meeting Gaara's eyes. 

“That's fine. I think I can handle one drink.” He sure hoped he could.

The meal progressed. The server continued to bring out more and more elaborate courses—there were small courses and large courses; shared soups and cold pasta and the most perfect salmon Gaara had ever tasted. Throughout the dinner—which seemed never ending—he could feel Lee's arm pressed against his, or his shoulder when Lee would move his arm to eat. It went to his head the way alcohol did, and he was glad they hadn't gotten to the toast yet, though everyone else had happily ordered cocktails. 

Before desert, their server performed a magic show, filled with what he claimed was ninjutsu, but was actually just expertly executed slight of hand card tricks, which wowed their table, though none more-so than Lee and Kankurō. It was, by far, the most exciting dinner Gaara had ever had. 

Dessert didn't arrive until nearly three hours had passed, along with the sake Ino had insisted upon to celebrate. 

“To new partnerships!” Ino cheered, already tipsy from her earlier cocktail. “And to new friendships!” 

They all raised their glasses and cheered in unison. The clinking of their cups echoed in their private room, and then all six of them downed their drinks—even Lee downed his water as though it were sake. Gaara felt the warmth of the alcohol hit him instantaneously, his head pleasantly light. 

In front of him, Kankurō dove right into the dessert, which was an elegant pastry twisted into a bonsai with matcha leaves and chocolate ice cream at its base. 

Beside him, Lee's arm pressed against his, and Gaara felt a smile pull at the corners of his mouth, unbidden. 

“Here,” Lee said, cutting a piece of the pastry from the tree and setting it on Gaara's plate for him. He graced Gaara with one of his sunflower smiles, which seemed to glow in the light of their little room. The pleasant chatter around them was like white noise, and Gaara sighed. 

“Thank you.” 

“It is my pleasure.” Lee reached over to grab a piece of the pastry for himself, popping the tiny branch into his mouth.

“Anyone want more sake?” Ino asked, lifting the decanter. 

“Me!” Kankurō crowed. 

“Don't you think you've had enough?” Temari asked, far less drunk and far better at holding her alcohol than either of her brothers. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Hinata's not gonna be able to carry your ass home.” 

Kankurō chuckled, low and warm, leaning heavily against Hinata. “You'd carry me home, wouldn't ya?” 

“O-of course,” Hinata said, a giggle rising like bubbles in champagne. Her cheeks were faintly pink, the drink having affected her as quickly as it had affected Gaara. “B-but I think I might need help, too.” 

Temari groaned, rolling her eyes. “Great. Do I have to get you two a cab?” 

“Only if you're payin', sis,” Kankurō said, far too pleased with himself. 

“Fuck you. I ain't payin' for shit.” 

“Hey! You're the one with the fancy law degree!” 

“And who was it that decided he wanted to pursue acting?” 

“Do they always bicker like this?” Lee asked, leaning close to Gaara. He was so warm, and his voice was so soothing when he actually bothered to whisper like that. Gaara leaned into the sound, his eyes heavy. 

“Mhmm,” Gaara confirmed, head listing towards Lee's shoulder. 

Lee chuckled, the sound resonating in Gaara's head. It vibrated around the shell of Gaara's ear, reverberating through his blood until his skin felt hot—or maybe that was just the sake. Gaara hummed in response to that sound rolling through him, his eyes falling closed. 

“Perhaps I will need to help you home tonight,” Lee murmured. 

Gaara wanted that. He wanted Lee to wrap his arms around him, take him home, and fall into bed with him. He didn't understand how it had taken him this long to figure out; how he'd been so oblivious to the obvious signs of infatuation. And now he was trapped—trapped by these feelings; trapped by Lee's constant presence in his shop and his life; trapped by Lee's feelings for someone else. 

Maybe he could make an arrangement for Sakura that said, “I hate you” using flower language. It would still look beautiful, and she'd never be any the wiser... 

He shook the thought away, forcing his eyes open. 

“Think it's bedtime for lil' brother,” Kankurō snickered. 

“Leave me alone,” Gaara mumbled, pressing his face into the warmth at his side—

He jerked, staring wide-eyed at Lee, who was smiling down at him with fond amusement in the curl of his odd little mouth. “I can walk you home.” 

Lee rose from his seat, grabbing the complimentary cloth banner that had been at his place at the start of the meal. 

“We don't have to leave yet,” Gaara said weakly, heat rising in his face. He'd made an absolute fool of himself, falling all over Lee after only one drink. What was wrong with him? 

“The party's not over!” Ino whined, leaning forward to grab at Lee's hand and giggling.

“I am actually getting tired, and I still need to get home after I drop Gaara-san off.”

“Then you don't need to—” Gaara began.

“Nonsense,” Lee said, his insistence on chivalry doing unexpected things to Gaara's heart.

“Go on, Gaara,” Temari said, nudging him, a secret smile on her lips. “I gotta wrangle these three, so it's best if Lee takes care of you.” 

Gaara glared at his sister as discreetly as he could in his inebriated state. He mouthed, “I hate you,” as he allowed Lee to help him from his seat, which only earned him a wink from Temari. Miraculously, once on his feet, he managed to stand up right and not totter. Despite this, Lee wrapped his arm around Gaara's shoulders, guiding him from the table. 

“Thank you so much for inviting me to celebrate with you tonight,” Lee said. “Congratulations again, Ino-san. Temari-san.” 

“It was nice to get to know you better,” Temari said. “I take it we'll be seeing you around Gaara's shop a lot.” 

Gaara pushed his way towards the door, determined to escape before his sister's knowing words and secretive tone could give him away. 

“You certainly will!” Lee agreed, and Gaara could hear the thumbs-up in his voice. “Oh, Gaara-san—!” 

Lee quickly caught up to Gaara, who was walking blindly through the dark passageway, using his hand to feel his way back to the entrance of the restaurant. 

“It's dark,” he said, unnecessarily. 

A light shone suddenly, and when Gaara turned back around, he was momentarily blinded by Lee's phone light. “Is that better?” 

“Thanks.” 

Somehow, they managed to find their way back out to the street and the bright lights of the city. It felt as though they'd been down there for days and, between the alcohol and the darkness of the passage, Gaara was disoriented. 

“Which way to your place?” Lee asked, leaning close. 

Gaara blinked, his vision spotted with lights. He pointed. “That way. If you want, you can just... help me get on the train.” 

Lee's answering smile told Gaara that nothing could keep Lee from helping him all the way home.

“And what would I tell your sister if something happened to you?”

“You could run away and change your name?” 

Lee threw his head back and laughed, his whole spirit rising with the sound. Gaara was entranced, watching his expression change: the way his eyes closed, crinkling at the corners; the way his nose scrunched up; the way his mouth opened to show his perfectly white teeth. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you are very funny?” Lee asked, wiping at his eyes. 

“No,” Gaara said flatly. “I don't think most people realize when I'm joking.” 

“Well, that is their loss.” 

“Kankurō was always the funny one.” 

“I can see how his humor might appeal to... certain people,” Lee said, a careful note in his voice. “He is a bit—not to be rude—but he is a bit crass for my taste.” 

It was Gaara's turn to laugh. “That's not rude, that's just the truth.” 

“I must admit, I was surprised to see that Hinata-san was dating him. Neji said she's always been incredibly shy.” 

“Don't ask me. I'd never have believed it, but Kankurō's always been like that with women.” 

“I hope he is not using her,” Lee said, suddenly stern. 

“According to him, Hinata's not looking for anything serious either.” 

Lee made a thoughtful sound, caught between doubt and surprise. “Well, for her sake, I hope so.” 

“For my shop's sake,” Gaara added. 

They lapsed into comfortable silence, walking through the crowded city to the fluorescent train station, which was just as crowded, even at such a late hour. The bright lights woke him up, but there was still a pleasant haze in his mind, and he found himself standing closer to Lee than was strictly necessary as they waited for their train. 

The train itself, packed with people, forced them to stand even closer, until Gaara was pressed into Lee's side. They jostled to and fro, back and forth with the motions of the train, swaying as if idling on a swing. It was oddly pleasant, pleasant enough that Gaara forgot—if only momentarily—that Lee was not his for the taking. This was not the end of the perfect date; Lee wasn't going to walk him to his door and tentatively ask for a kiss; Gaara wasn't going to text him immediately after closing the door behind him to tell Lee he'd had a wonderful night. 

There was never going to be a second date; this wasn't even a first one. 

Gaara forced himself to stand up straighter, putting as much distance between himself and Lee as he could manage on a crowded train.

By the time they reached Gaara's home, he'd sobered up—both from his one cup of sake, and from the blissful haze being close to Lee had induced—and he said a quick thank you before wishing Lee a good night and safe travels home. 

The moment the door closed behind him, his phone buzzed.

It was a text from Lee.

**I had a great night.**

🌸🌸🌸

Gaara's phone vibrated across the counter as he finished ringing up an order of sunflowers, the notification flashing.

**Rock Lee:**  
**Lunch?**

Another text followed immediately, this time a photo of a nearby restaurant. 

“Have a nice day,” Gaara said, waving away the customer and quickly snatching up his phone. 

**I'd love to.**

He deleted the text. It sounded too desperate by far. 

**Sure.**

He hit send. 

Lee's answering text came immediately, a bombardment of emoji, showcasing his excitement. 

**What would you like?**

“Hinata, I'll be in back if you need me.” 

“Okay!” Since dinner the other night, Hinata had been considerably less meek around him, though she still had a ways to go before he could call her bold. 

He disappeared into his greenhouse, pulling up the restaurant's menu in his browser before texting Lee back. He sighed, leaning against the door and letting his head fall back against it with a _thunk_. He was so screwed.

Why was he agreeing to lunch? What could he possibly be thinking? What he should have done was declined politely, and started to cultivate a more professional relationship between himself and Lee. He needed to go back to that transactional relationship; all business, nothing more. 

But Lee's smile was his Achilles's heel, and he wasn't willing to pass up a single opportunity to see it. 

Forty minutes later, his phone was vibrating again, this time incessantly as a call came in. 

“Hello?” 

“Gaara-san!” Lee shouted into the phone. “I am so sorry for being so late! It took much longer than I had expected—”

“That's okay,” Gaara told him, fighting down a smile. “I can take my lunch whenever I want.” 

Lee laughed, loud and bright. “That is true, but unfortunately, I have a class starting in the next fifteen minutes and I will not be able to bring lunch to you. I had hoped we could discuss my next arrangement, but I may have to stop by later. Do you mind coming to the Kwoon to pick up your lunch? I would hate to see you go hungry because of my tardiness!” 

Gaara's stomach twisted.”O-oh, right. Of course. Your next arrangement.” 

“Is something wrong?” 

Gaara hesitated. He could lie and say he was overbooked—business certainly _was_ booming—but the thought of lying to Lee made him feel sick with shame. He shook away the selfish urge to refuse Lee. 

“No, nothing. Sorry, I was just distracted.” He picked up the freshly potted cactus he'd been tending to when Lee had called, walking it out into the shop-proper. “Should I meet you at the Kwoon now?” 

“That would be best!” 

“Then I'll see you soon.” Gaara hung up, slipping his phone into the pocket of his apron as his mood slipped further towards wretched. He placed the cactus on the back table behind the counter, where Hinata was in the middle of an arrangement. “Hinata, I'm going to take my lunch break now. Will you be all right?” 

Hinata gave him one of her usual timid smiles. “Absolutely! U-um, Kankurō-kun was going to stop by. Is—is that okay? I promise it will not distract me from my work!” 

Gaara didn't have the energy to fight his brother on this, and even if he did, it was a losing battle. “That's fine. Just make sure he doesn't scare away any customers.” 

Hinata giggled, clapping her hand over her mouth as if to stiffle it. “I will make sure he is on his best behavior!” 

Gaara had to hope at least Hinata could wrangle his brother. He set his apron on its hook, washed his hands, and braced himself to see Lee as he made his way from Nine Petals to the Kwoon, which was just down the road, though so far he hadn't managed to visit Lee at work—after all, what reason could he possibly have to set foot in a martial arts studio? 

The Kwoon—The Night Dragon—was situated in a building that looked more like a house than a business. The wooden exterior was unlike anything else in the area, and had been well cared for despite the traditional architecture of the Kwoon that spoke of age. There was a delicate gate leading to a small courtyard and garden which was overflowing with flowers and a little plot dedicated to produce. It was the most eye-catching building on their little strip, and the most beautiful by far. 

When Gaara arrived at The Night Dragon, a heard of children, dressed in matching golden-yellow uniforms with white sashes, were standing in the courtyard, parents in tow. There were a few giggling kids, but almost everyone in attendance was standing at attention, as though they expected their instructor to arrive at any moment and scold them for misbehaving. Gaara had a hard time believing Lee to be a strict teacher, though. 

As if summoned by his thoughts, the door opened, revealing Rock Lee dressed in his Kung Fu best. He wore the same loose yellow tunic and matching trousers as his students, but his was tied at the waist with a black sash. He had high white socks on, which the leg of his trousers were tucked neatly into; his calves were wrapped with black ribbons and he wore a pair of simple, black tennis shoes, which surprised Gaara. Wasn't he supposed to be barefoot? 

“Hello, children!” Lee greeted. 

“Hello, Sifu!” they all chimed in unison. 

“Everyone inside! Change your shoes and begin stretching, I shall be with you shortly!” 

The children marched inside, matching earnest expressions on their faces, as though each of them was determined to make Lee proud. The many parents followed in after, greeting Lee with smiles on their faces. 

“Gaara-san, I am so glad you could make it. Please come in.” 

Gaara dithered by the gate for a brief moment, staring at Lee for a long moment as though starstruck before he managed to collect himself.

“I am so glad you were able to come by! I wish I had more time to show you around,” Lee said. He led Gaara down a narrow hall, passing open rooms where students were gathered: to Gaara's right the children were all lining up and preparing for stretches; on his left, a second room was packed with adults where a man who looked remarkably like Lee was leading the class. 

“Do you only teach children?” Gaara asked. 

“Yup! I teach children and teens, and I also teach a youth weapons' class. My father teaches teens and adults; my cousin, Tenten, teaches adults in weapons' mastery; her husband—that is Hinata-san's cousin, Neji—teaches adults as well; and my grandfather teaches a senior citizen's class. Oh, and Sakura-san teaches Wing Chun—that is our newest addition to the classes we offer!” He beamed at Gaara. 

“Wing... Chun? I thought you taught Kung Fu.” 

“We do! Wing Chun is a form of Kung Fu! Kung Fu is just a general term. My family's focus has always been on Shaolin, but I studied Wing Chun when I was younger, which is how I met Sakura-san! She is incredible with her fists!” 

Gaara pressed his mouth into a tight line, nodding along as Lee prattled on excitedly. 

“—Bruce Lee! Of course, my father was worried that I was taking on too much by studying Wing Chun, but I was already a black belt in Shoalin by then and I wanted to branch out! Sakura-san is also a black belt. But the ranking system is not what is important! It is what you know that matters! Do you have an interest in learning Kung Fu?” 

Gaara shook his head mutely, overwhelmed by the bombardment of information.

Lee's shoulders slumped. “Oh, well if you ever wanted to learn—”

“Lee, there you are—oh. Hi.” A woman with dark hair pulled up into two buns popped her head out of a room at the end of the hall. 

“Hi,” Gaara repeated. 

“Tenten, this is Gaara-san! The florist I told you about.” 

“Ooohhhh, _Gaara-san_. Yes, I've heard _all_ about you.” 

An undeniable flush rose in Gaara's face, making him warm and itchy all over. He glanced at Lee, finding a matching blush high on his cheeks. 

“Tenten, has been my confidant,” Lee told Gaara, dropping his voice to average volume, which seemed to be his version of a conspiratorial whisper. “She has been a source of such wonderful advice on how to proceed with Sakura-san!” 

“Ah,” was all Gaara could say, nodding slowly. 

“Lee needs all the help he can get when it comes to love,” Tenten said, giving Gaara a significant look. “Trust me, this one's hopeless. Sometimes he doesn't even realize he's got a good thing, even when it's staring him in the face.” 

Gaara fought down the urge to gulp. “He seems to be managing with Sakura just fine.” 

Tenten raised one eyebrow, a move incredibly reminiscent of Temari and one that made him more nervous than he cared to admit. Could she see through him as easily as Temari had? 

“I am doing all that I can!” Lee declared. “Let me grab your food. I really should hurry and get to my class.” 

Gaara watched Lee disappear into the room Tenten had just come from, returning a moment later. 

“Here you are. I really am so sorry we could not eat lunch together today.” 

“That's all right. If you come by the shop after your class, I can pay you back.” 

Lee waved aside the comment. “Nonsense! You are doing me such a huge favor learning Ikebana! The least I could do is treat you to lunch.” 

“It's nothing,” Gaara muttered. “Will you stop by the shop later tonight though?” 

“Absolutely!” 

Gaara dithered. He ought to go. Lee had a class, plus they had an audience. What more was there to say? 

“I'll... see you later.” 

“It was nice meeting you!” Tenten called after him, almost sing-song. 

He fled, making his way back to the street and as far away from Tenten's knowing gaze as he could get. Hopefully, unlike his sister, she wouldn't go blabbing to unsuspecting fools about his hopeless crush.

🌸🌸🌸

Gaara walked around the display table, checking his first proper Ikebana piece for any issues. He'd worried that transporting it from class to the flower shop would potentially damage the delicate petals of the vibrant red anemone, but he'd been smart in his presentation and in moving the piece. The petals were perfectly intact, half curtained by the hanging leaves from the branch of the weeping willow he'd special ordered—one of the perks of owning a flower shop meant always having access to materials for his Ikebana pieces.

Yamato had been impressed with Gaara's execution, though he'd critiqued the somber mood of the piece. 

“While there's beauty in sorrow,” he'd said, carefully scrutinizing Gaara's piece, “perhaps next time you can create something a bit more joyous.” 

Gaara hadn't intended his piece to reflect sorrow, but he hadn't been able to get thoughts of Lee and his doomed crush out of his head, thus he'd naturally gravitated to the plants and shapes he'd known would express that heartache. Admittedly, Gaara had always had an under-nourished penchant for dramatics, but at least his first Ikebana piece was much more artfully executed than the angsty poetry he'd written in his youth.

However, there was no denying the melancholic mood of the arrangement. Perhaps he could have switched out the leafy vines of the convolvulus major for something a little less hopeless; and perhaps the vibrant splash of scarlet from the anemone did bring to mind the agony his still beating, yet broken heart was in every time he saw Lee, but certainly that was diminished by the beautiful curtain of leaves from the willow. 

Whether or not it effectively reflected his wretched mood, he hoped it would at least draw some new customers. 

“That looks beautiful,” Matsuri said from behind Gaara. She had a penchant for trailing behind him whenever she wasn't busy. It hadn't become a problem yet, and if it did, he could always call Temari to be a buffer—assuming she wasn't too busy with preparing the law firm. 

“We'll see what customers think.” 

“I'm sure they'll love it. How did you get these vines to curl like this?” 

“Wire.” 

“And the flowers?” 

“Wire.” 

Matsuri's left cheek puffed up as she pouted—this happened whenever Gaara refused conversation, which was at least three times a day. “Maybe you could show me how sometime?” 

“They offer classes at the—“ He stopped short. In the window, he could see Lee's familiar profile walking past the shop on his way to the Kwoon. “Excuse me.” 

He rushed to the door, throwing it open and shouting, “Lee!” 

Lee whirled around, a smile breaking out across his face. Gaara wondered if he could capture the feeling of that smile with Ikebana. That would certainly be a joyous piece. 

“Gaara-san!” Lee bounded towards him, energetic and unrestrained. “Do you have news about my order?” 

Gaara's heart dropped, falling as surely and quickly as anemone petals. “No—well, sort of. I finished my first piece.” 

Lee's eyes went wide, his smile lighting up like star-bursts. “Really? Do you have photos? Can I see it?” 

“It's here,” Gaara said, gesturing behind himself. “Do you have time before class?” 

“Of course!” Lee nearly bowled Gaara over in his haste to enter the shop, but he stopped dead in the doorway, staring at the display where Gaara's piece sat. At the corners of Lee's eyes, tears sprung, as instantaneous and easy as his smiles. He breathed on a sigh, some secret longing hidden within the quiet whoosh of air passing between his lips. “Oh.” 

Gaara fretted, dithering by the door. “Do you... like it?” 

“It is...” Lee shook his head, wiping at his eyes. His voice seemed to be caught in his throat, for it worked, his Adam's apple bobbing before he finally managed, “Incredible.” 

Gaara's heart soared and his face warmed at the praise. “Really? My teacher said it was too melancholic.” 

Lee wiped at his eyes again. “I am not an expert on Ikebana, so I will have to take your teacher's word for it.” 

“It does seem to have a sobering affect,” Gaara noted. 

Lee laughed, turning to look at Gaara with shining eyes. “It is because it is so beautiful!” 

“That's what I told him,” Matsuri said, a pout in her voice. 

“I didn't doubt that,” Gaara pointed out. “I was just worried customers wouldn't find it appealing.” 

“How could they not?” Lee blustered. “It is a stunning work of art! A testament to what you have learned—and in such a short period of time!” Lee dropped his voice, leaning forward to ask, “Did you use flower language for this piece?” 

Gaara's stomach knotted, like vines tangling upon each other. “No,” he said, far too quickly. “I was just thinking about the shapes I wanted to create, and the color I wanted to highlight.” 

Lee pressed his mouth into a thoughtful frown, nodding sagely. “Of course, that makes sense. I suppose it would be difficult to combine the two when you are still learning.” 

“Exactly,” Gaara said, glad for once that his monotone did not betray his feelings. 

“Do you... does this mean you will need more time for my piece?” 

Of course they couldn't go five minutes without talking about Sakura and Lee's grand plans to win her affections. What had he been thinking rushing after Lee to show him this piece when he'd known it would lead to the very thing he wanted to avoid? 

“I can start it.” For a moment, his voice cracked, betraying him. He cleared his throat. “Do you still want the same things we discussed the other day?” 

Lee had brought Gaara another ridiculous poem of sorts after his Kung Fu lessons the day they'd missed their lunch date. Gaara had to be far more choosy this time, because Ikebana had strict guidelines for how many plants one could use, but he was sure he could execute Lee's romantic overtures with grace, even if without pleasure. 

“That is wonderful!” Lee enthused. “Please keep me updated on your progress! I did promise Sa—” He glanced to Matsuri who was busy pretending to work on an order while she eavesdropped. “_You-know-who_ that I would have something for her soon!” 

“Right. Of course,” Gaara said stiffly. “Don't want to keep her waiting.”

🌸🌸🌸

The following day, before Gaara had the chance to prepare himself for Lee's special order, Lee's expressive face appeared in the doorway of the Nine Petals.

“I hope you like sweets,” he said by way of greeting, opening the door and revealing the paper bag he carried. It sported the logo of a local bakery: an elegant blue butterfly within an enso. 

As long as it wasn't yōkan or marron glacé, Gaara would happily eat it. In fact, he might eat those too since Lee had brought it for him. 

“What did you get?” 

“Well,” Lee began, a flush rising in his cheeks. “I did not know what sort of sweets you liked—”

“You could have texted.” 

“But then it would not be a surprise.” Lee winked at him, which was unfortunate, because it did dreadful things to Gaara's heart and made him blush something furious. “So, I bought a few different things.” 

“You didn't have to go to so much trouble.” 

“If it is for you, it is no trouble,” Lee said so matter-of-factly Gaara couldn't hope to find any hidden meaning there. Perhaps if Lee had lowered his gaze or blushed when he'd said it, he could pretend that Lee were trying to woo him instead of Sakura. 

“Thanks,” he managed, accepting the bag from Lee. “Will you stay?” 

“Actually, I had something to discuss with you!” Lee followed after Gaara, watching him eagerly.

“I haven't started your order for Sakura yet.” He placed the bag of pastries on the counter, disappearing into his office to find plates. “Are you going to have anything?” 

“Whatever you do not want!” Lee replied. “And that is not why I have come! I actually wanted to ask you for another arrangement—a gift for my father! There is going to be a banquet at the end of the month to honor him for his dedication to Kung Fu, and I was hoping to place an order for another Ikebana piece!” 

An order not for Sakura? Gaara was thrilled. 

“I'd be honored to,” he told Lee in earnest. “Did you have something in mind?” 

Lee shook his head, opening up the bag of pastries and setting them out. “Not really. I figured I could trust you to make him something special. I bought two flavors of their mushi pan,” Lee said, drawing Gaara's attention to the pastries. “Matcha and mango. Do you like those?” 

“Matcha,” Gaara said immediately. “Mango's good too.” 

“You can have both then!” Lee set the two pastries on the plate nearest Gaara. “And this one is yōkan—”

“I hate yōkan,” Gaara said quickly, pushing Lee's hand away from his plate. 

Lee's answering smile was filled with a fondness that made Gaara's heart flutter. “I also bought vanilla custard imagawayaki.” 

Gaara pulled a face. “Too sweet for me.” 

“You do not have a sweet tooth? That is surprising.” 

“Why?” Gaara asked, frowning. 

“You just seem like you would like sweets,” Lee said vaguely, shrugging. “What about ichigo daifuku?” 

Gaara snatched the treat from Lee before he could claim it for himself. “I love these.” 

Lee chuckled, low and warm. “I thought that might be too sweet for you.” 

“I love anything with red bean paste,” Gaara said, taking a bite of the daifuku. “And strawberries.” 

“Are they your favorite?” Lee asked, tilting his head like a curious puppy. 

Gaara chewed for a thoughtful moment. “If I had to pick a favorite fruit it would be peaches.” 

“I shall have to remember that.” 

The smile that tugged at the corners of Gaara's mouth was unbidden and completely out of his control. He looked down, taking another bite of his daifuku to keep busy. 

“I also brought tea—well, tea bags. Do you have cups and hot water?” 

“Here,” Gaara set the sweet down, taking the two tea bags from Lee. This was starting to feel like a visit not from a friend and customer, but from his boyfriend. He snorted to himself as he returned to his office, rummaging in the cabinet above his desk for a mug while he set his electric kettle on. 

“It is very quiet in here today,” Lee called, his words muffled around a mouth full of whatever treat Gaara had refused. 

“We're not open yet. You're early.” 

“But—you should have told me! I did not mean to interrupt your opening! You must have so much to do.” Lee's harried voice grew closer, and he popped his head into Gaara's office.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Gaara said with a roll of his eyes. “Could you grab that for me?” He pointed to the top shelf where his favorite mug lived—it was a novelty mug shaped like a cactus. 

“You should not place your mugs so high up,” Lee said, reaching up with ease. He was close enough that Gaara could smell his body wash, the peppery scent of myrtle and the artificial smell that soaps inevitably left behind invading his nose. He stared up at Lee, his heart beating like a hummingbird's wings. 

“There you are,” Lee said, holding the mug between them. His gaze caught Gaara's and held for a moment long enough to be called lingering.

Gaara thought now would be the perfect opportunity to lean up and kiss Lee—they stood close enough that Gaara had to tilt his head back to look up at Lee, creating the perfect angle for a chaste, tentative kiss. He licked his lips, unable to look away from Lee or shake the thought that if he just moved a little bit closer...

The bell at the front of the shop chimed, signaling the arrival of his fellow opener—

“Gaaaah-raaaaa!” 

Or Naruto, come to ruin the mood with his brashness. 

Lee jumped back from Gaara as though they'd actually been caught kissing, his face as flush as the pink carnations on Gaara's desk. 

“Don't worry, it's just my friend.” 

“I should be going,” Lee said hastily, pulling the office door open. “Let me know how long you think that order will take! I will—I will see you later!” 

Lee fled without so much as a backwards glance, forgetting his pastries and his tea, and leaving a confused and forlorn Gaara in his wake.

🌸🌸🌸

Gaara had far too many flowers to choose from.

His work space in the greenhouse—where he wouldn't run the risk of someone like Sakura or Ino walking in on him—was covered with the broadest array of flowers related to love and devotion Gaara could get his hands on. He'd special ordered so many things it made his head spin. It had also seriously cut into his shop's annual budget, but if he was lucky he'd be able to turn a much bigger profit once more people saw that he was creating Ikebana pieces. 

So far, his own piece had garnered quite a bit of attention from being on display and from the photo he'd posted to Bijūgram with the official announcement that he would be taking Ikebana arrangements at the end of the month—he wanted to wait until he'd finished with Lee's two pieces—and with any luck, he could start Ikebana arrangements off at 25,000 yen and make a killing. The pieces themselves weren't that expensive when he considered the amount of materials—it was really the containers that racked up the cost—but Ikebana wasn't a common thing to come by, and he wasn't going to low-ball the cost right from the off. 

The bell to the shop jingled merrily, announcing the arrival of a customer. Hinata's voice carried, soft and sweet, through the door. 

“Welcome—oh, Lee-san! He's just in back.” 

“Thank you so much, Hinata-san!” For all that he sounded upbeat and chipper, there was something off about his voice today. 

Gaara wiped his hands on his apron—force of habit, because they were incredibly clean currently—and turned expectantly towards the door. It didn't open. 

After a beat, he stepped forward just as Lee flung the door wide, nearly hitting Gaara in the face. 

“I am so sorry!!!” Lee shouted, rushing in and grabbing Gaara about the shoulders to peer into his face. “I did not hurt you, did I? Oh, gosh, that was so close to your nose! I was sure I had—”

“It's fine,” Gaara said, trying to wiggle from Lee's grasp. “Are you all right?” 

“Me?” he squeaked, wild-eyed. “O-of course! Why would I not be? Everything is wonderful! Great! The sun is shining! It is a beautiful day outside! Have you been outside yet? I mean, of course you must have been out recently! You only just opened—”

“Lee,” Gaara said firmly, touching Lee's arm in concern. “Slow down. Take a deep breath. What's happened?” 

“Nothing! Honest! I was just—uh, in the neighborhood and thought I would—oh, are you working on my piece for Sakura-san?” 

Gaara glanced over at his work space where the colorful display of flowers was arranged. He'd organized them by meaning, color, and which form they could take on within his piece—straight form, slanted form, or hanging form. He hadn't hit on any inspiration for Lee's special order, but he was getting there. 

“I only just started a bit ago. I was in the middle of making a final decision on which flowers to use.” 

“O-oh, well, then I guess I got here just in time to help!” Lee said, looking inexplicably nervous. 

“Oh.” Gaara peered into Lee's face, but Lee wouldn't meet his eyes. “Well, it is your arrangement.” 

“Perfect!” Lee said, voice high with strain. “What were you thinking?” 

“Well, I didn't want to use the same flowers again. I figured that wouldn't be exciting. On your order form, you'd said you wanted to express—” Gaara braced himself for the inevitable flush that rose whenever he read over Lee's little poems. “'You have stoked a fire within my heart that cannot be subdued. With this everlasting promise, I wish to only bring you joy.'” 

It wasn't Lee's finest, per say, not that Gaara had a whole lot to compare it to, but he had warned Lee that Ikebana offered a much more limited number of flowers than a typical arrangement. Perhaps he'd simply been practicing restraint. 

Something Gaara had not practiced. 

His table was littered with so many roses, gladiolus, camellia, dogwood, tulips, lotus, gerbera, and many other things that didn't come close to summing up what Lee had said, but had still somehow made it into Gaara's pile of flowers. He supposed Lee's input could at least help him narrow things down. 

Beside him, Lee fidgeted, nervousness in every jerk of his hands or shift of his feet. “Um, well, I thought I saw some, um, purple carnations out front...” 

Gaara frowned, shaking his head decisively. “No, you don't want that. Those mean changeable. I mean, I doubt Sakura knows anything about flower language, but you'd basically be telling her your feelings have changed.” 

“O-oh, right. Of—of course, I do not want that.” 

“Did you want to use purple flowers, though? I could double check my notes, I'm sure there's something that means love. So many flowers have to do with love, I'd be surprised if we couldn't find something.” 

“Um, no that is okay! I—I think Sakura-san really loves pink, so perhaps a geranium?” 

Again, Gaara frowned. “That means doubt. If it's pink, at least.” 

“Right. I—I seem to be picking all the wrong things!” Lee said, a forced laugh coming from him as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe lilac?” 

“What color?” 

“There are... different colors? I thought they were only purple.” 

Gaara mulled this over. “I suppose that could work,” he said slowly. “But that does mean 'first emotions of love', and this being your third gift to her, it does feel like it's missing the mark.” 

Lee bit his lip, hesitation in the bloodless spot on his mouth where his teeth had dug in. “That—that does make sense. Then what about a cactus?”

He said it so suddenly and so loudly, as though the words themselves had been building within him, that it startled Gaara. 

“I thought you said you wouldn't ever give Sakura a cactus?” 

“I—I did? I do not remember...” Lee looked down, avoiding Gaara's questioning gaze. “I should—I should probably go. I am only distracting you! After all, you are the expert!” 

“You don't have to. We just need to find something that suits your feelings better,” Gaara tried. Why was Lee acting so strange? Had something happened between him and Sakura? Had she said something to make him doubt his purpose? Or was it something else...? 

Gaara watched Lee make for the door, pathetic excuse after pathetic excuse falling from his lips as he hastened to get away from Gaara. 

“I will see you again soon!” Lee left, letting the door close with a resounding thud as realization hit Gaara: Lee had figured out how Gaara felt about him.

🌸🌸🌸

Gaara did not see Lee for another three days.

It was clear that Lee's discovery had made him uncomfortable, which surprised Gaara. He hadn't expected Lee to be put off by something like this. Although, he supposed it would be awkward to realize the person you'd hired to make romantic arrangements for your would-be paramour had feelings for you. 

Maybe Lee was simply trying to put space between himself and Gaara to make it easier on Gaara. He was, after all, an incredibly thoughtful man. 

But three days had allowed doubt to settle over Gaara, and by the time Lee came to pick up the finished piece for Sakura, Gaara was in a wretched state of mind. 

“I'm sorry this took so long,” he told Lee, presenting the piece without fanfare. 

Lee stared at it, his expression as cheerless as Gaara's mood. “It is lovely,” he said automatically. “Please, think nothing of the wait. How much is it?” 

Gaara punched the total into the register, taking 10% off. 

“Eighteen-thousand yen.” 

Lee handed over his card mutely, avoiding Gaara's gaze completely. 

It was entirely transactional. Whatever friendship they'd had before had shriveled up like flowers left without water. It was what Gaara had wanted—to put distance between them, to ease his heart away from this misguided crush. But now Gaara wished, as he handed over Lee's receipt and passed along the arrangement, that he could take back whatever he'd done to push Lee away. 

But, like mistaking deadly nightshade for black nightshade and eating a handful of berries with glee, whatever he'd done couldn't be undone.

🌸🌸🌸

Gaara had expected to see his second Ikebana piece on Sakura's Bijūgram.

But he never did. 

He refreshed his feed for the umpteenth time that day, staring hard at his tablet, willing her page to load the photo that simply wasn't there. He huffed and grumbled to himself in his frustration, oblivious to the shopping customers that kept casting looks in his direction. 

Eventually, he gave up trying. 

“Thank you! Come again,” Matsuri trilled, waving a customer out of the shop. 

“I'll be in back,” Gaara told her. He needed some time to himself. Maybe he'd text Lee and ask him about the arrangement. Surely Sakura had loved it. Surely she and Lee were planning their first date. Surely the only reason it hadn't ended up on social media was because they weren't ready to announce their relationship. 

That had to be it. 

Gaara texted Lee, just to be sure. 

An hour later, he still didn't have a response and he was starting to get a headache. He sat in his office, leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, trying to will away all thoughts of Lee. He checked his phone again. Nothing.

The chiming of the shop's bell made him grind his teeth. 

“Hello, Temari-san!” 

“Where's Gaara?” 

“He's in back,” Matsuri said, then dropping her voice, though not low enough that he couldn't hear, she added, “He's in a bit of a mood.” 

“Trust me, I can handle my brother.” 

The door opened a moment later. Gaara steadfastly refused to look up at his sister, busying himself on the computer to keep from having to meet her gaze. She'd take one look at him and _know_. How she'd know, he couldn't say, but she would and then she'd want to _talk_. 

And that was the last thing Gaara wanted to do. 

“What's up?” Temari asked when Gaara continued to ignore her. 

“Nothing. Busy.” 

“I can see that.” Temari leaned over the back of his chair, trying to peer into his face. “Is this a 'busy because I'm upset' or a 'busy and it's giving me a headache' kinda day?” 

He really hated how perceptive his sister was. “Both.” 

“And I take it you don't want to talk about it.” 

“No.” 

“Not even if I get you your favorite curry?” 

Gaara hesitated, almost tempted. “No.” 

“Damn. Well, okay, then can I trouble you for something else—something business related.” 

Gaara turned. “Business related?” 

“Yes, as in my business wants to hire your business to do the arrangements for our big party.” 

“Holy shit, you did it,” Gaara said, all his own worries momentarily forgotten. He reached out, pulling Temari into a hug. “Congrats.” 

“Thanks,” she said, the roll of her eyes in the lilt of her tone. “I appreciate that, truly. But I don't have a lot of time for sentimental crap—unless you do wanna spill your guts to me about what's goin' on.” 

“I don't.” 

“All right, but I had to try. Anyways, we're having our party in two weeks. Ino's gonna get her folks to do some of the arrangements, and I was hoping you'd do the others.” 

“Don't you want them to match?” 

“We'll give you the specs, but I want to support your business. This is a big order, so if it's too much, don't sweat it.” 

“I think I can squeeze it in. I've got a few bridal bouquets due next week and a funeral arrangement, but the only other big order on my docket is Lee's—” His voice hitched, his stomach swooping. He cleared his throat. “Lee's order for his father.” 

Temari raised one single eyebrow, as knowing as an oracle. “Uh huh. Lee been by recently?” 

“Just to pick up his gift for Sakura.” 

“Right. Sakura. How's that going?” 

“I wouldn't know. I haven't seen him since he picked up his order.” 

Temari licked her lips, tapping her chin lightly with a finger. “Mhm. Well, I saw Sakura earlier today and she didn't mention anything about receiving flowers.” 

Gaara looked up at Temari. “Maybe she's trying to keep it quiet. I mean, if they've started dating, they might not want people to know.” 

“That's true,” Temari said. She gave a doubtful hum, pushing away from Gaara's desk. “Well, I guess we'll find out at the party if those two are an item.” 

Gaara groaned. “Don't tell me Lee's going to be there.” 

“Of course he's going to be there. At the very least, he and Sakura are co-workers, and Sakura _is_ best friends with Ino. What did you think? He wasn't going to be invited?” 

“I didn't think about it at all. I don't want to see him.” 

“Why?”

“Because the last time I saw him he could barely look me in the eye,” Gaara snapped. “He figured it out. Okay? He figured out I have a stupid crush—a crush _you_ made me aware of, thank you very much—and now he wants nothing to do with me!” 

Temari clicked her tongue, opening and closing her mouth for a moment before releasing a heavy breath. “I don't know who you think you're talking to like that, _little_ brother, because I know it's not me.” 

Gaara gripped his hair, grunting in frustration. “Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm just—”

“Upset, I know. I get it. And I'll forgive you because I'm a very gracious older sister, and I know you've never handled heartache particularly well. Remember when you had that ridiculous crush on Naruto and he wouldn't give you the time of day?” 

Gaara flushed, hot with embarrassment and resentment. “Don't remind me.” 

“Look, my point is, heartbreak makes you cranky, so I'm going to let this slide. But if you really care about Lee, you'll be happy for him.” 

“I didn't say I wasn't. I'm upset because he can't even look at me.” His eyes stung at the memory of Lee's last visit, frustration with himself mounting until a tight band of pressure had wrapped around his head. 

“Listen, if he's being a dick—which, I'm not gonna lie, I find _extremely_ hard to believe—then I'll be the first to kick his ass, black belt or no. But maybe don't jump to conclusions? There could be something else going on. Take some time to deal with your shit, then try talking to him at the party like a normal person, not a lovesick, mopey idiot. Okay?” 

Gaara hated how reasonable Temari could be. “This is why you're the lawyer in the family.” 

Temari laughed, ruffling Gaara's hair. “And don't you forget it. Now, I'll email you the details for the party. Our budget is around a hundred-thousand—”

“A _hundred_-thousand?!” Gaara repeated, his jaw dropping. He didn't even see budgets like that for weddings. Temari was crazy. 

“We're going all out,” Temari said, a wicked grin on her face as she added, “Plus, most of that's coming from my trust. Dad would be _pissed_.” 

“Then I take it you're going to pick flowers that would also annoy him.” 

“You know me so well,” Temari said, wiping a fake tear from her eye. “Truly warms my heart how close our family is.” 

Gaara snorted. “Just email me your plans, and I'll get right on it.” 

“You are the best little brother a sister could ever ask for.” 

“Don't let Kankurō hear you say that.” 

“Please, he knows he's an ass, and he loves it.” 

“True. Speaking of, he hasn't broken Hinata's heart yet.” 

“You know, I actually think he might really like her.” 

“Never thought I'd see the day.” 

“You're tellin' me. I always figured he'd be a lifelong bachelor.” 

“Maybe the world's ending.” 

Temari gave a thoughtful hum. “Nah. Now if he starts talking about marriage, then we can worry about the end of the world.” 

“As long as he buys the flowers from me,” Gaara said. 

Temari laughed, shaking her head. “All right, I really have to go. Try not to work yourself up over Lee without me here to calm you down, okay?” 

That was asking a lot from him, but he would certainly try.

🌸🌸🌸

A week into the order Temari had placed, Gaara was overwhelmed.

The shop was in utter chaos: his wedding orders had doubled over the weekend, he'd landed five unexpected funeral arrangements, and he'd been hounded by people desperate for Ikebana arrangements to the point he'd caved on two orders only because the customers had offered to pay extra. Between work and his class, he was too busy to worry about Lee. 

In fact, he'd completely forgotten that he'd texted Lee to ask about Sakura's arrangement. 

It was an overwhelming but blessed reprieve from driving himself crazy over a man he'd never had a chance with. So what if Lee had figured out that Gaara had a little crush on him? It wasn't as though he were in love with Lee! He'd be over it in no time, especially with Lee so scarce of late. In fact, he was already starting to get over Lee, and he was sure by the weekend Lee would be a distant memory and all that pining would be just a momentarily embarrassing thought crossing his mind in the middle of a busy day. 

Yes, he was definitely getting over Rock Lee. 

“Nine Petals, what can I do for you?” Hinata said into the phone. 

On the other end, a voice crackled, and she nodded, grabbing a pad of paper and writing out an order. 

Gaara double checked the time. He had an interview in an hour—the shop had simply gotten too busy for the three of them to handle, and Gaara needed to have more than one day off. Especially when he had class one day a week. 

The woman he was interviewing was a friend of Matsuri's and he was fairly certain he'd hire her on the spot. Matsuri might fawn over him, but she was a hard worker, and he had to assume her friend would be too. Plus, he really didn't have many options.

He disappeared into his office, checking for the printout of Sari's application and the questions he'd be asking her.

The bell over the shop's door gave a cheery chime, announcing the arrival of another patron. 

“Lee-san! It's so good to see you!” Hinata greeted. 

Gaara's heart plummeted. So much for being over Rock Lee. He quickly closed the door to his office, pressing his back against it as though to barricade the door. He willed his heart to slow to no avail, listening as closely as he could to the conversation on the other side. 

“Hullo,” Lee greeted, sounding nothing like his usual self. “Gaara-san is not here today, is he?” 

“He is. He's just in the office getting ready for an interview.” 

“Oh.” There was silence for a long moment from Lee, then the bell chiming again. 

“Welcome to Nine Petals! Let me know if you need anything.” 

“Do you—is he too busy to talk?” 

“Oh, um, I can ask?” Hinata offered, sounding unsure. 

“N-nevermind. I do not want to disturb him. He is—I am sure he is very busy!” 

“We've been swamped,” Hinata confirmed. “We got hit with so many orders for this weekend. That's why he's hiring another part-timer.” 

“Well, I hope whoever he hires is a good helper!” Lee sounded stiff and unnatural, as though he were forcing the conversation or reading from a script. “Do you—could I buy something?” 

“Oh! Of course! Do you know what you want?” 

“Yes, please. I would like to purchase a custom arrangement. Do you have mimosa?” 

“Mimosa,” Hinata muttered to herself. “Mimosa, mimosa...” 

There was silence as Hinata searched their database. Gaara knew for a fact that they had just received a shipment of mimosa that morning, and the vibrant yellow flowers were sitting in the cooler, overflowing from their bucket. 

“Hmm, it looks like we got a shipment in today,” Hinata said. “Is that all?” 

“No, I would also like to add red camellia and red carnations to it.” 

“Ohhhh,” Hinata cooed. “That sounds lovely! It this for a special someone?” 

“Yes,” Lee said, sounding a fraction more like his old self. “I am hoping this person gets my message. They did not seem to last time, but I am not ready to give up!”

Hinata's sweet laugh mixed with the sound of the bell chiming. “Hello! If you need assistance, I will be with you shortly! Did you need anything else?” 

“Um, could you also add a few pink camellia?” 

“Absolutely. Oh, I was going to stop by later today to see if Neji was around. Do you know if he's working?” 

“He has a class from three to five.” 

“Oh, that's such a long time.” 

“He is a very strict instructor!” Lee agreed. “But he is wonderful at what he does.” 

“I remember how serious he was when we were kids,” Hinata said, voice reminiscent. “Was there anything else that you wanted to add?” 

“Oh, yes, I am so sorry. Could you also add peach blossoms and orange gerbera?”

“Peach blossoms? Those are a bit more expensive, just so you know.” 

“That is all right. Money is not my concern.”

“You must really love her,” Hinata said, sighing. “If my boyfriend got me flowers like this, I'd be over the moon.” 

“Your boyfriend? Does that mean you and Kankurō-san are serious?” 

Hinata giggled. “Shh, we're still feeling things out, but we talked about it and well, I think things might really work out between us.” 

“That is amazing, Hinata-san! I am so thrilled!” There was a moment's pause, then, “Wait, is that what you wanted to see Neji about?” 

Hinata groaned. “Oh, no, I hadn't even thought to tell him I was seeing someone! Do you think he'll like Kankurō-kun?” 

Lee's hesitation was answer enough for Gaara. He had to suppress the amused snort he felt rise in response, lest Lee or Hinata hear him.

Lee's answer was delicate, if evasive. “I think he will trust your judgment, Hinata-san. As long as Kankurō-san makes you happy and treats you right, Neji will support you.” 

Hinata's laugh was nervous, the way she'd always been before dating Gaara's brother. “He's a good man,” she said quietly. “I know he's a bit...crude, but he's not really like that. I mean, he is, but he's a good person and a good b-boyfriend. Oh, gosh, I haven't called him that yet.” 

“Congratulations,” Lee said, his voice earnest and a little sad. “I am truly happy for you.” 

“I'm sure you will be just as happy once you give these flowers to whoever they are for!” 

Lee didn't say anything for a long moment, then he added, “Could I also get shepherd's purse? I know the mimosa is more of a filler flower, but I think those will add a nice touch.” 

“Oh, um...” A beat as Hinata no doubt searched the database for the uncommon flower. “Yes! We do have it! Should I have this ready for pick-up by the end of the day?” 

“No rush. Just whenever Gaara-san can get to it.” 

“I don't think he'll be the one putting this piece together. He has so many big orders to worry about—”

“Then could you please wait until he has free time. I would rather he arrange the piece—not that I do not think you or Matsuri-san could not do it, of course!” Lee laughed nervously, and the sound made Gaara's heart constrict. He'd missed that sound more than he'd realized. 

“Of course, Lee-san! Do you want to pay for it now, or wait until he can get to it?” 

“I can pay for it now.” 

Hinata rang Lee up—another impressive bill on his quest to win Sakura's love—and wished him luck, saying her goodbyes and making Lee promise not to tell Neji about Kankurō yet. 

When the bell announced Lee's departure, Gaara's shoulders slumped. 

Even if Lee had wanted him to arrange the bouquet, it was clear he'd gone ahead without Gaara and done his own research on flower language. Maybe he didn't hate Gaara, but he clearly didn't want Gaara to be as integral a part of Sakura's arrangements as he had been. 

He thought over Lee's special order, trepidation running through his veins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the Moribana style: Moribana (盛花, "piled-up flowers"), flowers are arranged in a shallow vase or suiban, compote vessel, or basket, and secured on a kenzan or pointed needle holders, also known as metal frogs.)
> 
> The restaurant they go to, [Ninja Shinjuku](http://ninjaworld.jp/shinjuku/index.html), is a real place in Tokyo! I'm sad I'll never be able to eat there because they don't have gluten-free options (and also there's soy in like everything), but it's such a cool themed restaurant! For the sake of this fic, I watched a lot of [youtube videos](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=imPQHYyydT4) posted by people who went to eat there, and I promise I did not exaggerate or make up any of the details! There really is an android ninja that opens up a secret passage to a ninja obstacle course!
> 
> The first Ikebana piece Gaara made used [red anemone](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anemone_coronaria), which according to my book _A Victorian Flower Dictionary: The Language of Flowers Companion_ by Mandy Kirby are associated with the story of Aphrodite and Adonis, and means "forsaken", such as a forsaken love. The vines are from the [convolvulus major](https://hananokotoba.com/hirugao/) (without the flowers though), as that means "extinguished hopes", and the weeping willow is associated with melancholy.
> 
> And in case anyone was wondering, you actually _do_ wear shoes for Kung Fu! I actually took Shaolin Kung Fu myself when I was living in San Francisco! Unfortunately, when I took it, I did not have the cool uniform I described here, and I didn't take it for long enough to get to that point.


	3. Jiyūka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He'd always said plants were easier than people, but he really wishes he could understand Rock Lee as easily as he's come to understand Hanakotoba or Ikebana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's finished! I decided I couldn't wait until Saturday because I'm impatient and besides, it's been almost exactly a year since I started this fic so like I figured it was about time. I honestly hadn't meant to take a year to finish this story, so I hope those who read it last year have returned to it and will enjoy this conclusion. While my life has gone in a very different direction and fandom is no longer my main focus, I'm still hoping to keep up with fics. I'll try not to leave stories--especially short stories like this--for so long. 
> 
> Part of my initial pause in updates was that I'd found out there were Ikebana classes offered in my area, but unfortunately time and money kept me from signing up. I'd really wanted the practical, hands on experience with Ikebana, and maybe someday I'll be able to take a class, but for now this story was built on lots of youtube vidoes, books, and other online resources.
> 
> Enjoy the story!
> 
> **trigger warning:** major alcohol use

Gaara hadn't bothered looking at Lee's order. 

He'd placed it at the bottom of a pile of forms until he could ignore it no longer—Lee had, after all, already paid so he couldn't put it off forever. 

At least he had plenty of excuses to avoid it. Weddings, funerals, and Temari's office party were certainly more important and those all had a specific deadline. What was Lee's deadline? Had he even revealed to Sakura that he was the one sending her these gifts? Gaara still hadn't seen the last arrangement on her Bijūgram, and at this point he was almost certain Lee hadn't given it to her. Did Lee think Gaara was trying to sabotage his courtship? Did he think Gaara would do something so low and petty? 

Maybe that was why Lee had gone out of his way to do his own research.

But why hadn't he just had Hinata or Matsuri put the order together? If he already knew exactly what he wanted and had so little faith in Gaara's ability to remain professional, why make Gaara suffer through yet another gift for Sakura? 

Obsessing over Lee and the reasons behind his actions wasn't going to do Gaara any good. And it was distracting him from putting the finishing touches on Temari's order for her party the following evening. 

The phone rang through the shop, an echoing trill jarring him from his unhelpful musings. 

“Thank you for calling Nine Petals, how can I help you?” Hinata answered. “Hello, Temari-san! Yes, he's right here.” 

The phone was shoved into his face without preamble—Hinata had definitely grown bolder since her and Kankurō had made their relationship official.

“Hey,” he said into the phone, holding it against his shoulder. “I'm just putting the finishing touches on your arrangements.” 

“Great. Ino's folks said they weren't dropping off their half of the order until tomorrow, so of course Ino's losing her mind.” 

“I'm sure they'll be done in time for the party.” 

“I think Ino's just looking for any excuse to go crazy, right now. We've been swamped over here, so flower arrangements are the least of my concerns, but you know how Ino is.” 

“I'll take your word for it,” Gaara said, shifting one of the purple tulips until it sat just so, nestled next to a Casablanca lily. Ever since Lee's entrance into his life, he couldn't look at an arrangement without seeing the meaning of each flower, which meant never idly designing a bouquet ever again. Even if no one else knew what it meant. 

“Trust me—oh, thanks.” The sound of shuffling papers and a muffled voice on the other end interrupted their conversation. 

“Are you going to be able to stop by to help bring the flowers to the office?” Gaara asked, trying to pull Temari's focus back to him. 

“What? Oh, yeah, I can come by at close if that's okay.” 

“That's fine. Should I ask Kankurō to help?” 

“Hang on—hey, do you think you could lend me a hand with the arrangements later tonight?” On the other end, Gaara could hear that muffled voice again, scoffing and muttering his acquiescence. “Oh, please, if I was that much of a pain in your ass, you wouldn't be helping us out this much.” 

There was a lightness in Temari's tone as she spoke, bordering on playful. Gaara raised one pale eyebrow, twirling a purple dahlia in his hand as he listened.

“Who's that?” 

“Huh? Oh, just a friend of Ino's who's been helping us move stuff into the office. He's a lazy asshole, but I think he likes being bossed around or something because he's always here.” 

“I see,” Gaara said. Behind him, the bell of the shop tinkled its merry sound. “Is he going to come by tonight to help with the flowers?” 

“Welcome back!” Hinata greeted. 

“Hullo.” The sound of Rock Lee's unenthusiastic greeting made every muscle in Gaara's body tense.

“I think I've strong-armed him into helping,” Temari was saying, Gaara's focus effectively caught between her and the man behind him. He stood still, determined not to acknowledge Lee.

He forced his voice to remain steady and unaffected by Lee's unexpected arrival. “You sure you don't want me to ask Kankurō to come help, too? I've got thirty arrangements that need transporting, after all.” 

“I think the three of us can manage.” 

Gaara moved towards his office, dropping the flower in his hand and abandoning the arrangement in favor of escape. He tried to discreetly glance at Lee, who was watching him in silence from the counter. “All right. So I'll see you at eight?” 

Temari mumbled something that Gaara didn't quite catch before rushing to say, “All right, gotta go! See you at eight!” 

The line went dead before Gaara could say a proper goodbye, and with his only buffer between himself and Lee gone, he quickly made for his office. “Yeah,” he said into the phone, determined to keep up the pretense of conversation. “Okay. That sounds good.” 

“Gaa—”

“I'm sorry, I can't talk right now,” Gaara said over his shoulder as Lee tried to head him off.

“But—”

“I'm sorry, Lee. You'll have to come back another time. What was that, Temari?” he said, once again continuing the fake conversation as he shut his office door on Lee's earnest face. 

He slumped against the door, letting his head hang as the dead line beeped angrily in his ear. 

On the other side of the door, he could hear Hinata's soft voice whispering to Lee, her tone offering comfort that Gaara couldn't fathom. 

After several long, painful minutes of hiding in his office, the bell to the shop chimed and he heard Hinata bid Lee farewell. 

Lee's exit did not offer him relief.

🌸🌸🌸

The office was crowded with people and flowers, but not enough people that he could easily avoid Rock Lee.

The party celebrating Temari and Ino's new law firm, Kunoichi Associates, was in full swing, and Gaara had already knocked back two cups of sake and a dangerously colorful cocktail that had gone immediately to his head all in the hopes of dulling the heartache and anxiety seeing Lee brought to the surface. 

He was, of course, being melodramatic once again. 

But after the first two drinks, he'd stopped caring and had decided he deserved this. After all, heartache was a perfectly reasonable thing to be upset over.

“Oi, Gaara!” Naruto crowed, sloshing beer onto his own shirt as he flung an arm around Gaara's shoulders. 

“Temari'll kill you,” Gaara muttered, narrowing his eyes at the floor where some of the alcohol had spilled. His face was warm, his head pleasantly fuzzy, and Naruto's arm around him felt like it was the only support he had in the chaos of his life. 

“Hey, buddy, how much have you had to drink?” Naruto laughed. “You fuckin' lightweight.” 

“Shh,” Gaara shushed him, trying to pull away from Naruto. “'M not drunk. Just... tipsy.” 

“Yeah, and I'm a heterosexual,” Naruto quipped. “Maybe we should get you some water—”

“I'm fine,” Gaara whined, voice pitched unnaturally. “I just had—” he held up two fingers, “three drinks.” 

“And they went straight to your head, ya know.” Naruto dragged Gaara to a corner of the room, forcing him into a seat. “I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere.” 

“Like you could stop me,” Gaara mumbled. He wanted another drink. No, he wanted to go home and to never see Rock Lee ever again. 

As if summoned by the drunken haze in his mind, Lee's familiar bowl-cut appeared in the crowd, on the opposite side of the room. Gaara, in an attempt to hide from Lee, slid down in his seat, until he'd melted from his chair and disappeared beneath the table. 

“Gaara?” 

He jumped, hitting his head on the underside of the table. “Fuck.” 

“Are you okay?” Sakura asked, an amused smile on her face. He hated her.

“I'm _fine_,” he bit off, rubbing his head. “I just... dropped my phone.” He held up his phone, grateful and surprised by his quick thinking. 

“Ah, so you're not hiding from that blond guy?” 

“Naruto? Why would I hide from him?” 

“Honestly, I kind of thought he was an ex or something.” 

Gaara shook his head emphatically. “No, thank god. That—that would be—mistake.” 

“Do you want some water?” 

Why did people keep asking him that? If he didn't want to be drunk, he wouldn't have had three drinks. Why was this so hard for people to understand? 

“_Noooooo._” He did his best to add as many unnecessary syllables to the word as he could, drawing it out in a painfully annoying fashion. That would show her. 

“Oh-kay,” Sakura said, mimicking his tone. “But if Temari asks me why her little brother is lying under tables at her law firm's big party—”

“Don't do that,” he whined. “I'm not lying under tables. I am sitting, and I am _fine._” 

“My mistake. You haven't seen Ino by any chance, have you?” 

Gaara grumbled under his breath. “...stupid pink hair...” 

“What?” Sakura frowned, leaning over so that she was practically under the table herself. “I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you.” 

“I haven't seen her!” he snapped. 

Sakura reeled backwards, holding her hands up in surrender. “Woah, sorry.”

Gaara huffed, moving to take a sip from his cup only to find it empty. He glared down at the offending lack of alcohol for a beat, then crawled out from under his hiding spot. He couldn't stand to face Sakura without another drink. “I need more alcohol.” 

“Um... sure. Why don't we go to the bar together?” Sakura linked her arm through his, earning a harsh glare from him. 

“I can _walk_,” he told her, emphasizing this point by taking a step forward all on his own and only swaying slightly. 

“I know, but I'd like the company. Come on.” She slipped her arm through his once more, gripping him with far more strength than strictly necessary and reminding Gaara that she was, in fact, a black belt in Wing Chun. 

“...don't know why he likes you...” he grumbled to himself, hardly aware that he was speaking out loud.

“Who likes who?” 

“I do _not_ like him,” Gaara snapped. “He's _just. A. Cust-uh-mer._”

Sakura's raised eyebrow was the only answer she gave as she deposited him at the bar. “Excuse me, could I get some water.” 

“I wanted sake,” Gaara reminded her. “Or one of those,” he added, pointing to a brilliantly colored cocktail a woman next to him was drinking. 

“The water's for me.” Sakura leaned closer to the bar, until her flat chest was practically resting against the bar top, and she muttered something to the bartender that Gaara couldn't catch. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar pair of eyes watching him from the other end of the bar. He quickly turned around, nearly colliding with Sakura as the bartender passed her two drinks. 

“Woah, careful,” she said. “Here. This is yours.” 

Gaara narrowed his eyes. “Is this water?” 

“Yes, now drink up.” 

“I hate you,” he said with relish.

“Of course, you do,” Sakura said, patting his leg. “I know it's terrible of me to try and sober you up, but hopefully one day you'll forgive me.” 

“Never,” Gaara promised, glaring down into the cup of water. His own eyes stared back at him, petulance in his gaze. 

Sakura laughed, oblivious to the bitterness in Gaara's words. Guilt curled around him like vines, and he downed the water, just to feel less shitty for hating her so unfairly. 

“Sakura-san,” Lee's familiar voice carried over the noise, clear as the little bell in Gaara's shop. “Gaara-san.” 

Gaara whirled so quickly he almost fell out of his stool. A strong hand on his shoulder stopped him from toppling headfirst onto the floor, and he found himself face-to-chest with Rock Lee. He looked up into Lee's earnest face, his own face molten with embarrassment. 

“Lee,” he said, his mouth suddenly dry. He needed more water. Why had Sakura let him drink so much? Did she hate him that much? Was she determined to not only keep him from the love of his life, but also to make a fool of him? 

“Lee-san! I'm so glad you could make it. Were Tenten and Neji able to come?” 

“Unfortunately, they could not, but they told me to congratulate Ino-san for them,” Lee said as he helped Gaara back onto his seat. “Are you all right, Gaara-san?” 

“Peachy.” 

Lee's frown swam in his vision, his lips in a kissable pout. Gaara wondered if Sakura would punch him for kissing her boyfriend—was he her boyfriend yet? He couldn't remember. Not that he would kiss Lee without asking, first. Not that Lee would agree to it, regardless. 

“Perhaps you should drink some water,” Lee said, his voice oddly soft. It was soothing, like music, and Gaara leaned closer to hear him better over the noise. 

“I drank water. _She_ made me,” he said, pointing an accusatory finger at Sakura. Lee's girlfriend. Lee's dream girl. Lee's stupid, pink-haired paramour. What did she have that Gaara didn't? What was so great about her? He had green eyes too. He could shave a stupid little heart into his hair. Hell, he already _had_ a heart-shaped birthmark. That was _way_ cuter than her haircut. 

“I think he's mad at me for trying to sober him up,” Sakura told Lee in a mock whisper, her voice cutting through Gaara's petty musings. 

Gaara glared at her askance, his vision tilted as he rested his head against the soft, warm body before him. “I can hear you,” he told her.

“You haven't seen Ino, have you, Lee-san?” Sakura asked, ignoring him. 

“I just saw her with Temari-san,” Lee said, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder. The motion made Gaara keenly aware that the body he was leaning against was attached to Lee, but he couldn't bring himself to move. 

“Great,” Sakura said, and it didn't sound great at all. “Could I leave Gaara with you?” 

“Of course. Rest assured, I will take care of him.” 

Gaara wished Lee wouldn't. He wished Lee would. He wished with every fiber of his being that Lee would just disappear from his life. 

“Thank you,” Sakura said, standing on tiptoes to place a kiss on Lee's cheek before disappearing into the crowd. 

Gaara narrowed his eyes at the spot on Lee's cheek where her pink lipstick had stained his skin. He reached up, wiping the offending smudge away, rougher than strictly necessary. 

Lee grabbed Gaara's hand, stopping his ministrations. A tentative smile wormed its way onto his face, like morning glory blossoming at first light. “What are you doing?” 

Gaara froze, staring up into Lee's coal black eyes. He tugged at his hand, trying to break free from Lee's grasp. “Nothing. Let go.” 

Lee promptly dropped Gaara's hand, his smile fading. “I stopped by the shop again today, but you were not in.” 

“I'm a very busy florist.” 

“Did you get my order?” 

Gaara tilted his head, feigning ignorance. “What order?” 

Lee sighed. “I suppose you would not remember such a thing in your current state.” 

Gaara pulled a face. “You talk weird.” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“You. Talk. Weird.” Gaara leaned closer, placing a hand against Lee's chest to keep himself upright. “You're too. Too _nice_.” He wished Lee would stop being so nice to him, stop being so fucking formal. It was annoying. Why couldn't Lee have been like all the other customers? Why did he have to be so _nice_? Why did he have to keep up with all the formalities when he clearly didn't want Gaara's help anymore? 

Lee snorted, shaking his head as he laughed. “I—I was not aware that being nice was so strange. Unfortunately, I will have to continue with my odd behavior, though.” 

“Why?” Gaara demanded. Why couldn't Lee just leave him alone?

“Because I like you.” 

It was Gaara's turn to laugh. Except his eyes burned, too. And his chest felt tight. He shoved at Lee, trying to find an escape route, trying to put distance between them. “No, you like Sakura.” 

Lee's face crumpled, his expression unlike anything Gaara had ever seen on him. It didn't suit Lee. Lee should always be happy; Lee should always smile that sunflower smile that had damned Gaara into falling in love with him. 

“I—”

“Shit, there you are,” Kankurō said, appearing behind Lee. “Uzumaki said you were shitfaced. How much did you have to fucking drink?” 

“Go away,” Gaara growled. 

“He had some water,” Lee informed Kankurō, his tone tight. 

“Do you know how much he had? Alcohol, I mean.” 

“Unfortunately, I do not. I only just found him like this.” 

“Damn. Come on, Temari's gonna be pissed if you ruin her party.” 

“I'm not ruining anything,” Gaara pouted. “I'm just drunk.” 

“Yeah, drunk and moping, and you'll probably get sick before I can get you home.” 

“Do you want me to take him home?” Lee asked. 

“No!” Gaara snapped. “Just leave me alone.” 

Lee took a step back, that same wretched expression darkening his face until Gaara wanted to cry. He reached for Lee, his eyes stinging. 

“I'm sorry. Lee, wait—”

“No, please. I should—I should be going, anyways. It is getting late.” 

Before Gaara could stop him, Lee had gone, disappearing into the crowd. 

“Nice goin', lil brother,” Kankurō remarked. “Real smooth. The guy was just tryna help.” 

Gaara dropped his face into his hands, forcing back tears and frustration. “I know. I—just get me a cab.” 

“Next time you find a guy you like, promise me you won't get stupid drunk,” Kankurō asked. 

“There won't be a next time. I'm swearing off love forever.” 

“Sure ya are, kid.” Kankurō helped Gaara to his feet, half carrying him through the crowd. “And I'm gonna elope with Hinata tomorrow because I just can't wait to get married and start a family.” 

“You like her,” Gaara said, accusation heavy in his tone. 

“Sure do. And if I can make it work with a woman like that, you can make it work—maybe not with Bowl-Cut, especially not after... _that_. But someday.” 

“Stop.”

“What?” 

“Stop trying to make me feel better.” 

“Oh, so this is one of those self-pitying wallow fests?” 

“Obviously,” Gaara slurred.

“You sure you don't want me to try findin' Lee so you can kiss and make up?” 

“He's probably too busy kissing Sakura,” Gaara said morosely. 

“I dunno. He seemed pretty content to spend the night with you, and you're a sloppy fucking drunk.” 

“Am not.” 

“Are too. You're just lucky Temari's too busy flirting with that pineapple-head lookin' motherfucker, otherwise she'd probably murder you. And you know she'd get away with it, too.” 

“She can murder me if she wants,” Gaara mumbled, turning his head into Kankurō's shoulder and closing his eyes. “I'd rather be dead than have to make 'nother stupid ar-ar—flower-thing for Sakura.” 

Kankurō barked a laugh, shifting to push a door open. “Man, I forgot how maudlin you get when you're heartbroken. And you guys give _me_ shit for being an actor.” 

“'M not _maudlin_,” Gaara argued. His stomach rolled, acid burning his esophagus. “I'm gonna be sick.”

“Oh, no ya don't,” Kankurō challenged, hoisting Gaara up. “Come on, there's a cab over here. Just keep it down until you get home.” 

“Don't think that's how it works.” Gaara closed his eyes, trying to force down the bile rising in his throat. 

“No, but I'm not about to pay extra to clean a cab if you puke.” 

“Jackass,” Gaara murmured. He swallowed hard, forcing his body to comply. “I—I'm okay.” 

Somehow, Gaara managed to get home in one piece and without throwing up in the cab, but that was the only good thing he could say about how the night had gone. Falling into bed and welcoming blissful oblivion wasn't going to change the fact that he'd effectively ruined whatever remained of his friendship with Rock Lee. 

He was never going to drink again.

🌸🌸🌸

The sound of his alarm split his head like the seam of a seed breaking open for the first time.

He groaned, rolling over and blindly searching for his phone to silence it and put an end to his suffering. 

“Mrow.” 

Shukaku's gravely voice sounded directly in his ear, making his head pound. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, rolling onto his back. His stomach churned and his mouth tasted foul, but for now, he didn't think he was going to be sick. 

“Mrow.” Shukaku wasn't going to let up. 

“Dammit.” He hadn't fed Shukaku when he'd gotten home the night before, too drunk and too morose to do anything but fall into bed.

He forced himself to sitting, his head pounding and his stomach rolling for his efforts, but after a few minutes, he made it to his feet and into his small kitchen, Shukaku winding around his legs the entire time. 

After a long shower—where he stood under the spray with his eyes closed, forcing himself to relive what he could remember of the night before as punishment—and a light breakfast of plain eggs and rice, he felt slightly more human and much, much worse for how he'd behaved the night before. 

Once he was fully awake and mostly functioning, he checked his phone. 

Ten missed calls, two new voicemails, and twenty text messages. Temari was definitely going to murder him. 

Unfortunately for her and fortunately for him, he had Ikebana class that day, so any of Temari's best laid plans of fratricide would have to wait until later. Hopefully, by the time he saw her next, she'd have forgiven him. 

Or maybe she wouldn't even need to kill him because his hangover would.

Hungover, his class was like the slowest form of torture ever devised. 

“You okay?” Chōji asked beside him, his face awash with concern. 

Gaara shook his head, barely able to focus on the piece he was trying to arrange. “Hungover.” 

“That's rough,” Chōji muttered, digging into his bag. “Hang on, I think I've got—yeah, here you go.” 

He set a bag with a familiar logo on it—a butterfly within an enso—on the table between them. 

“What's this?” 

“Umeboshi onigiri. It'll help.” 

“I didn't know this bakery sold onigiri.” 

“We don't. I just use the bags sometimes when all my bento boxes are dirty.” Chōji grinned, turning his attention back to his own piece, which was coming along much nicer than Gaara's. “I've never seen you there before.” 

“I've never been,” Gaara clarified. He twiddled with the wire he'd been trying to work into the stem of a red carnation to no avail. “A... friend of mine brought me some pastries recently, though. I didn't realize you worked there. I work just down the street.” 

“Really? Where at?” 

“Nine Petals.” 

“No way! That's the flower shop that's doing the arrangements for my wedding.” 

Gaara flushed with pride and, despite his wretched hangover, he managed a small smile. “Really? What's the name the order's under? I might remember it.” 

“Akimichi. My fiance's the one who placed the order though, I've never actually been.” 

“Well, I appreciate your business—and your fiance has excellent taste in floral arrangements.” Gaara remembered the order clearly because of the unique request Chōji's fiance had put in.

Chōji smiled, his expression wistful. “Yeah, she's great. I'm a lucky guy.” 

“You'll have to stop by the shop sometime so I can meet her. I didn't take the order myself, but I usually do the wedding arrangements since my employees are still learning.” 

“I'd love to stop by! And maybe I can convince her to add you to the guest list. It probably won't be hard. She's so excited about the wedding, she's inviting people I didn't even think she _liked._” 

“Are you doing a traditional wedding? The flowers she chose were rather unconventional.” 

“It's a bit of a mix of traditions,” Chōji explained. He gently set a water lily into the center of his arrangement, turning it this way and that before pressing it into the spikes of the kenzan. “She's half Nigerian.” 

“Well, if she'd agree to invite me, I'll look forward to getting to experience that.” 

“You and me both,” Chōji laughed. “It feels like the wedding can't come soon enough.” 

Gaara could only imagine the joy Chōji and his fiance felt. He'd seen it countless times over the last couple months in his shop—future brides to be with joy shining in their eyes, or someone about to propose and looking for that perfect arrangement to express the depth of their feeling. Just like Lee. 

And Gaara had ruined that for Lee, falling into the ugliness that heartbreak so often brought out in him without question or remorse. He was ashamed. 

“You seem to be struggling to bring joy into your pieces,” Yamato told him towards the end of the lesson, looking over Gaara's drooping, half finished mess of an arrangement. The carnation had refused to cooperate and was sitting, half demolished, beside the flat base he'd chosen for this particular piece. It certainly hadn't been successful. 

“I can't seem to focus,” Gaara said quietly, plucking at the petals of carnation. 

“Why don't you work on this over the course of the week, see if you can't find inspiration that brings you joy. And don't rush it. You'll have more fun with this if you let it flow naturally.” 

Gaara couldn't imagine anything in his life flowing naturally, least of all positive emotion. Everything had gone steadily downhill ever since his feelings for Lee had surfaced, and now even flowers were a source of frustration for him. 

When he returned home from class, exhausted and only slightly less sick thanks to Chōji's onigiri, he forced himself to sit down and face the consequences of getting sloppy drunk the night before—at least, the majority of the consequences: he called up Temari, prepared to offer his life in penance. 

“I'm not going to kill you,” she laughed. “I didn't even _know_, okay? I was honestly just worried when Sakura told me.” 

Gaara fought down a groan, remembering his aggressive verbal jabs at Sakura with no small amount of shame. “I guess that—what did Kankurō call him? Pineapple guy kept you busy, huh?” 

Temari's laugh was loud enough that it nearly blew his eardrum, and he yanked the phone away from his face before he could suffer further ear trauma. “Oh, shit. I should have known Kankurō was gonna give me shit about Shikamaru.” 

“It's only fair,” Gaara pointed out. “I mean, are we ever going to let him live down the fact that he's in a serious relationship?” 

“Fuck no.” 

Gaara chuckled, falling back on his futon, relieved that at least his sister didn't hate him. He couldn't account for how Lee would feel about him after last night, but at least he could always count on Temari to be there for him, no matter how messy he was. 

With a slightly clearer conscience, Gaara unpacked his Ikebana materials, settling in to talk with his sister while he made something beautiful.

🌸🌸🌸

His third Ikebana piece was yellow like sunshine. Yellow like sunflower smiles. Yellow like the new beginnings of daffodils.

When he looked at it, sitting on its little table for all to admire in his shop, it made him both happy and wistful. He missed Lee. He missed the easy friendship they'd cultivated; missed sitting together on his work bench, getting dirt on their butts, while Gaara told Lee about this flower or that cactus. He missed the way Lee laughed, and the way Lee's dark eyes filled with wonder at every new fact he learned. 

He hadn't been brave enough to contact Lee and make his apologies, but he'd practiced several different renditions in front of the mirror everyday for a week. It was only a matter of time before he steeled himself for the inevitable. 

The bell of the shop jingled, happy as the sunny Ikebana arrangement on display. 

Ino and Sakura entered, hand in hand, cheeks pink with joy and matching smiles on their faces. Gaara stopped mid-watering, staring at their joined hands in confusion. 

“Gaara!” Sakura greeted as though he hadn't professed his deepest loathing to her at the party. “How are you feeling?” 

“I'm fine,” he said carefully, still eyeing their joined hands.

“I heard you drank yourself under the table at the party,” Ino teased. 

“That was... not my finest moment.” 

“I was worried,” Sakura admitted. “I felt so bad leaving you like that, but Lee-san is such a good guy. I knew you'd be okay with him.” 

Gaara's stomach turned over with guilt. “He is,” he agreed quietly. “Unfortunately, I wasn't so good to him. I imagine he's still upset with me. I haven't seen him since the party.” 

Sakura and Ino shared a look, a silent conversation passing between them that left Gaara completely out of the loop. 

“He has been a bit... off lately,” Sakura finally admitted. “He wouldn't tell me about it, though.” 

“Honestly, I thought it was because we'd started dating,” Ino admitted with a huff. “I mean, he _did_ have a huge crush on you.” 

Sakura rolled her eyes, half exasperated and half amused. “He did, but Lee would never be anything but happy for me. You really should give him a chance, Ino.” 

“Maybe I will,” Ino said with a shrug. “I mean, now I know he's not competition.” 

Sakura snorted, asking with a raised eyebrow and disbelief in every syllable, “You thought he was competition before?” 

“You thought Temari had a chance with me!” Ino shouted. 

“You thought Temari was into Ino?” Gaara asked, watching the back and forth with wide eyes.

“I mean, at least Temari's _hot_,” Sakura said. 

“Lee's _hot_,” Gaara snapped without thinking. His face burned with sudden heat, and he quickly added, “He's _not_ ugly.” 

“No, of course, not!” Sakura corrected, her expression one of piqued curiosity. “I just mean, he's not... conventional.” 

Maybe Gaara hadn't been wrong to hate Sakura, after all. “Right, well, I should probably get back to work. If there's nothing else...” 

“Actually, I came by because of Lee-san. He asked if I could check on the order for his father, said he was too busy to pop in. Although if he's upset about the party...” 

“He's avoiding me,” Gaara said, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He'd waited too long to apologize, and by now he'd probably never get the chance to. “Tell him...” He didn't know what he wanted Sakura to tell Lee. That he was sorry; that he was a fool; that he was hopeless and lovesick; that he'd take it all back if he could; that if Lee would give him a second chance, Gaara wouldn't be so petty; that he could be happy for Lee; that all he wanted was to be friends again.

“How about I just tell him I didn't see you and that he should stop by?” Sakura offered. 

It felt a little underhanded, but Gaara couldn't stop Sakura from meddling if she wanted to. “I guess. If you think that'll work.” 

“Trust me, I know Lee-san. He won't be able to stay mad at you forever.” 

Perhaps Lee couldn't stay mad at him, but Gaara doubted that things would be the same between them ever again.

🌸🌸🌸

Gaara hadn't expected Sakura's message to send Lee running to him, so he wasn't at all surprised when, instead of coming to see him in person, Lee called.

“I am so sorry I could not stop by myself,” he said. Even through the phone, Gaara could feel the lack of energy in Lee's words. 

“It's all right,” Gaara said awkwardly, making his way into the office. “Sakura said you were busy.” 

“Yes, quite,” Lee confirmed, the words as plain a lie as any Lee could have delivered. “I will not keep you long. I just wanted to know how my father's gift was coming.” 

“It's good. I'll have it done by next week.” 

“Thank you. I appreciate that immensely.” 

Gaara waited a beat, trying to find the courage to say everything he'd envisioned he'd say to Lee the next time he had the chance. “O-of course.” 

“Well, I should let you—”

“I'm sorry.” 

“What?” 

“For how I acted,” Gaara blurted. It wasn't the eloquent apology he'd meant it to be, but it was a start. “At the party. I shouldn't have—I was really drunk.” 

Lee was silent for long enough that Gaara could hear the sound of 'kiyas' and the thwaping of mats in the background. He worried his lip, trying to remember all the things he'd wanted to say to Lee, when Lee finally spoke. 

“It is all right.” He didn't sound entirely convincing, but Gaara wasn't picky. He'd accept what little Lee was willing to give. Lee let out a short, awkward laugh. “I should know better than anyone that alcohol can make people behave... unexpectedly.” 

Gaara had no clue what that meant, but at least Lee was being understanding. “I don't normally drink that much, I was just... There was something on my mind—something bothering me, but the way I acted was uncalled for. I didn't mean to—to take out my frustrations on you.” 

“You were not upset with me, were you?” 

“No,” Gaara assured him. “No, it was—nothing. It was nothing.” 

There was silence for a long moment, somehow more awkward than before Gaara's apology. 

“I'm sorry about Sakura,” Gaara finally added. He meant it, too. Maybe it was easier to mean it when he knew that Lee's feelings were never going to be returned, but he hoped that wasn't the case. He hoped that the next time Lee found someone, he'd be as supportive as he should have been this time. 

Lee's answering silence was covered by the sound of continued shouting in the background, and it was long enough to be uncomfortable. 

“I am happy for Sakura-san. Ino-san has been her best friend for many years, and they truly love each other. I can only hope to find a love like theirs someday.” 

Something ugly twisted in Gaara's gut, like root rot running through a poorly ventilated pot. “You will. I'm sure of it. And the next time you meet someone, I'll be ready to make you as many bouquets as you want until they fall in love with you.” 

For whatever reason, the silence on the other end of the line sounded like heartbreak. Gaara couldn't explain it, but the memory of Lee's face at the party—vague, blurry, and wretched—swam to his mind. 

“Thank you, Gaara-san. I—I really appreciate that. Excuse me, I have to go.” 

Lee hung up before Gaara could say anything else.

🌸🌸🌸

The curling anemone leaves—taken from the white flower—looped upward, almost hugging the beautiful bluebells at the center of the piece, as if lifting them skyward. The strong branch from a cherry blossom tree stood proud behind the blue flowers, its speckled with the buds that hadn't yet bloomed.

Gaara had given himself a challenge, attempting a style of Ikebana he hadn't yet learned in his class, hoping that Lee would recognize the care he'd put into the piece and see it as the sincere apology Gaara had failed to give over the phone. 

This particular style had five individual branches, climbing skyward to create a tall, proud piece—perfect for honoring Lee's father. 

At least, Gaara hoped so. He'd placed extra care in choosing materials that spoke of Lee's gratitude for his father, and his father's character—or at least what Gaara imagined his character to be from what he knew of Lee. 

The lights within the Kwoon cast a golden-yellow glow onto the otherwise dark courtyard, and the noise from within told Gaara that a class was in session. He hoped it wasn't one of Lee's. 

He took a deep breath, making his way up the short path to the door. From the window, he could see a man with long hair walking around the room, his expression severe. In one corner of the room, he spotted Tenten. Immediately, her gaze snapped to his and her eyes narrowed. 

Alarmed, Gaara quickly averted his eyes and hurried up the path. 

The door opened before he could decide if he was meant to knock or simply walk in, and he found himself face-to-face with a glaring Tenten. 

“What do you want?” 

“I came to deliver this,” Gaara said automatically, caught off guard by her question and tone. He held the arrangement towards her, as though it might protect him from her unexpected ire. 

“Oh. Right.” She looked the piece over, her expression pinched. “Well, it looks nice, I guess. I'll take it.” 

“Is Lee around? I wanted to deliver it personally.” 

“He's busy,” Tenten snapped. “Why do you care?” 

“Because we're... friends?” Lee had forgiven him, hadn't he? 

Tenten clicked her tongue. “Oh, I see. You're _friends_.” She stepped forward, closing the door behind herself. “Well, if you're his _'friend'_ maybe you could explain to me what happened at that party a couple weeks ago. I mean, as his _'friend'_, you'd know all about the jackass who sent him home crying, right?” She flashed a toothy smile, more like baring her teeth than an actual grin. 

“He—he was crying?”

“No thanks to you,” Tenten said, and she might have reached over to smack him, her tone was so sharp, if not for the delicate arrangement he still held in his hands. “Now, unless you need me to pay for this—”

“It's taken care of.” 

“Great. Then fuck off. Lee doesn't need a 'friend' like you.”

Stunned, Gaara barely registered as she took the piece and turned to walk back inside. “Wait! I—I didn't mean to upset him. I was—”

“You know, what—Gaara, was it? Gaara, I don't give a fuck. His whole life, Lee's tried and he's tried, but people like _you_ treat him like he's worth less than gum on their shoe. What gives you the right to treat him like that? What? You think because he's 'nice' that you can just say whatever you like? Do whatever you like? And he'll just forgive and forget?”

“No, I just—I was drunk—”

“A sorry excuse,” Tenten snapped. “I only wish I'd been there so I could have knocked your drunk ass out.”

“I—I'm sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing to me?” Tenten snapped. She was mad enough Gaara worried for the sake of the arrangement, but if she did drop it he wouldn't so much as complain. “Lee's the one who deserves an apology—”

“I apologized to him!” Gaara jumped to defend himself. “When he called—”

“That wasn't an apology! That was—that was guilt! You felt guilty, and now you're just trying to smooth it over. Do you think you can just ignore when someone tells you how they feel until it goes away?”

Gaara reeled as if Tenten had struck him, taking a step back. “What are you talking about?”

“What am I—” She narrowed her eyes, looking down at the arrangement in her hands, then back up at Gaara. “Wait. What _exactly_ happened between you and Lee?"

Gaara didn't know where to start. Did he explain to her their initial arrangement—how Lee had come into his shop one night with an elaborate plan of courtship and how that had led to an unexpected friendship? Did he tell her about how his siblings had made him realize the horrible truth of his feelings? Did he explain how hard it was to talk about Sakura and all the gifts Lee had planned for her, and how that had led to resentment and bitterness, and one of the pettiest, most childish alcohol-induced mope fests of his life? 

He shook himself, taking a deep breath. “I don't know what Lee said, but I got drunk at the party. I was... upset. Not with Lee, but with....” He braced himself for the truth, braced himself for what he'd been too scared to put voice to. “I was upset with my situation with Lee and the arrangements for Sakura.”

“But he stopped those,” Tenten interrupted before he could pour his heart out.

“No, he didn't,” Gaara countered. “He was in the shop just a few weeks ago placing an order for a bouquet.”

Tenten narrowed her eyes, a frown of confusion diminishing any heat in her gaze. “Was this before or after that Ikebana piece for Sakura?”

“After.”

Tenten closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. “Did you—did you look at the order? Do you even know what it was?”

“I overheard him placing it.”

Tenten waved her one free hand, the Ikebana's container propped on her hip. “Okay, but did you _look_ at the order. Like really look at it? I know Lee had you looking up Hanakotoba for Sakura, so you must know what those flowers actually _mean_.”

He couldn't remember everything off the top of his head, but he was sure the order form was still somewhere in his office, hidden out of sight. “I... remember mimosa.”

“And what does mimosa mean?”

Gaara racked his brain. “Sensitivity.” He frowned. “Or... secret love.”

For the first time that night, Tenten smiled at him, crooked and knowing.

And finally, Gaara saw what had been staring him in the face all this time.

🌸🌸🌸

Gaara's office was in tatters. 

He'd torn the room apart trying to find the order from he'd hidden from himself, determined to put it out of sight and out of mind, convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was another one of Lee's attempts at winning over Sakura.

He'd been so stupid. So stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID. 

How could he not have seen it before? Lee had been trying to tell him for weeks that he'd changed his mind. Lee had stood in his greenhouse, while Gaara worried over the Ikebana piece for Sakura, telling Gaara through flower language that his feelings had changed.

_Then what about a cactus?”_

__

__

_“I thought you said you wouldn't ever give Sakura a cactus?”_

He _had_ said he'd never give Sakura a cactus, but he'd never said anything about giving _Gaara_ a cactus. He was such a fool, such an utter fucking fool.

“Ah!” he shouted in triumph, half-wild and half-desperate. A stack of order forms had fallen just the other day, and he'd thought he'd retrieved them all from the floor, but one lone form had slipped just beneath his desk and the name on the form was none other than Rock Lee.

He collapsed, his back hitting the wall as he read over the form for the first time.

Hinata had written each flower down exactly as Lee had dictated: mimosa, red camellia, red carnations, pink camellia, peach blossoms, orange gerbera, and shepherd's purse.

Gaara had already remembered what mimosa meant: secret love.

He scrambled up to his desk, kneeling before it and searching the mess for any of the books he had on Victorian flower language and Hanakotoba. He practically threw the book against the wall when he finally managed to pull it from the mess it had been hidden beneath—it was going to be such a headache cleaning all this up—but he kept a firm enough grasp on it, falling back to the floor and thumbing through its pages.

“Camellia, camellia,” he muttered to himself. “There.”

He found the the red and the pink camellia entries back to back, writing down their meanings on Lee's order form. Then he found the red carnation—he'd known one meaning of it already, because he'd tried using it to express the pain of his broken heart in his Ikebana class. But he hadn't realized that it could also mean 'my heart aches for you'. Why did there have to be so many meanings to everything?

He'd remembered the meaning of peach blossoms, having used those in an arrangement for Sakura early on, but the orange gerbera and shepherd's purse eluded him. He couldn't find them in his book, even after checking the index. Another book failed him. And another.

Finally, with only the internet left, he frantically typed in the last two flowers into a search bar until he found the answers he'd been looking for.

His hand shaking, he filled in the custom order box, finishing off the meaning of Lee's message: This secret love is a flame within me and I ache for you, long for you. I am your captive and you are my sunshine. I offer you my all.

🌸🌸🌸

Gaara didn't sleep and he didn't go home. 

First, he cleaned his office, trying to recenter himself and calm his racing heart. Once he put his office back together, he could begin fixing things—_properly fixing things_—with Lee. 

After the chaos in his office had been organized, he turned on the POS system and processed Lee's refund. He wasn't going to make Lee pay for this arrangement. If he could help it, Lee would never pay for another flower from his shop ever again.

He hoped Lee wouldn't get any sort of notifications about the refund before tomorrow night. If he did, hopefully Lee would be too focused on the banquet to ask.

After those two things had been taken care of, Gaara began meticulously arranging the bouquet Lee had ordered.

Exhausted and emotionally wrung out, it took him longer than usual as he fastidiously checked over each flower for any imperfections, painstakingly trimmed them of leaves, and carefully coated their petals with floral wax. He let the mimosa and the shepherd's purse spill out like waves from the ocean, almost overwhelming the vase they sat within.

Then, with a careful eye, he set about arranging the rest of the flowers, moving them here or there until they captured the true essence of Lee's confession. It felt almost like Ikebana—no wires, no kenzan, no structure or rules, but the heart of it was still there. And it felt intimate, as though every soft petal brushing his hand was a kiss from Lee.

By the time he'd finished, the sky was turning the soft gray of early morning and his heart finally felt at ease.

🌸🌸🌸

Gaara had gone home to sleep the moment Hinata had walked into the store for open.

Shukaku was beside himself when Gaara returned home, and Gaara didn't even bother rationing out his food, instead dumping a whole six ounce can into the bowl before collapsing on his futon.

After sleeping for six straight hours—a record for him—Gaara awoke with a new purpose: tonight was the night.

The banquet started at 7:30, which gave him an hour and a half to get ready and get there. Plenty of time, even for someone as chronically late as Gaara.

Showering was the easy part. Picking out an outfit was the hard part. What should he wear that expressed that he was both the biggest idiot in the history of the world and also madly in love with Rock Lee? And what was going to make a good impression on Lee's father?

Dread settled over him as the realization that he would be meeting Lee's father hit him.

He was so screwed. 

Thirty minutes later and running late, Gaara finally looked presentable, dressed in a pair of black dress pants and a plain turtle neck the same color as his eyes that was _just_ tight enough that it was appealing without being over the top. He threw on his favorite blazer, which he rarely had an excuse to wear, double checking that he looked put together. The floral embroidery on the sleeves of his blazer were an elegant touch, and helped distract from the frantic look in his eyes.

He ran his hand through his hair one last time for good measure before departing.

“Wish me luck, Shukaku.”

Shukaku's gravely meow sounded only perturbed. No doubt he was still mad at Gaara for skipping his dinner the night before.

By the time he arrived at the Night Dragon, the Kwoon was already crowded. There were children running around and play fighting; adults gathered here and there chatting, or trying to wrangle kids; and teens scattered in different parts of the room, talking or on their phones.

The hall that Gaara had once walked through had been opened, the sliding doors pushed aside to create one large, open space. A long table had been set up to one side of the room, filled with food, and all throughout smaller tables had been placed for people to sit and eat. Another long table had been placed on the other side of the room, where a man who could only be Lee's father, sat at the very center. On his right sat a bored looking man with a face mask and gray hair that didn't seem to suit his age, and on his left sat Lee.

“Well, well, well,” Tenten's familiar voice sang behind Gaara, making him tense. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“Tenten,” he greeted. She had her arm looped through the same long-haired man he'd seen in the window the night before. The man looked as severe as he had the previous evening.

“This is my husband, Neji. Neji, this is Gaara—you know, Lee's friend from the flower shop.”

Neji raised one single eyebrow, judgment heavy in the gesture. “Interesting.”

Gaara hardly knew what to say to that. It wasn't the usual pleasantries, and it didn't invite further comment.

“You're late,” Tenten pointed out. “We were just about to get started.”

“I had to stop by the shop on the way here.”

“Oh?” Tenten's tone was arch, and she waited for elaboration, her look expectant.

Gaara had no plans on telling her what he'd needed at the shop, though. That was between himself and Lee.

“You should know: Lee probably won't be happy to see you,” Tenten finally said, words perfectly cutting.

“Hopefully I can change that,” Gaara said, straightening with feigned confidence. He had no idea if Lee would give him the chance to explain, but the bouquet had given him a glimmer of hope.

Tenten gave a derisive snort, sauntering past him with Neji in tow. “We'll see.”

Gaara could worry about winning over Lee's family after he'd won over Lee.

With nothing else to do and knowing no one else, Gaara made his way to the table of food, picking up a plate and beginning to pile it high. He was anxious enough that he wasn't sure he could eat, but he hadn't eaten since the day before and didn't think he could get through the night without a proper meal.

Once his plate was full to nearly overflowing, he turned to seek out a table, nearly getting bowled over by an errant child.

“Excuse us!” the child's mother said as she raced past Gaara.

Gaara clutched his chest, his heart racing with the onslaught of nerves. At least the child hadn't knocked his plate of food out of his hand or, worse, onto his clothes.

Winding his way through the crowd, he spotted a familiar curtain of dark black hair at a table near the very back and quickly made his way there.

“Hinata?”

Hinata let out a startled squeak, nearly jumping out of her seat as she turned to him with wide eyes. She scrambled to her feet, bowing quickly in greeting. “I didn't realize you were coming tonight.”

Gaara had been about to say the same thing. “Is Kankurō here?”

“He just went to the bathroom. Oh, Gaara-san, this is my uncle, Hyūga Hizashi.” She gestured towards a man with as severe an expression as Neji's, who was sitting beside her. “And this is my aunt, Hyūga Shokōko. Auntie, Uncle, this is my boss and Kankurō-kun's younger brother."

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” Shokōko said, inclining her head. “Are you well acquainted with the Maito family?”

Gaara frowned. “I don't believe I am.”

“That's Lee's father,” Hinata whispered, pointing back to the table. “Maito Gai.”

“But Lee—”

“Took his mother's name. She died giving birth,” Hinata explained, dropping her voice further.

Gaara looked back at the table to where Maito Gai was sitting. Lee had disappeared from his side, but Tenten and Neji were sitting at the table, watching him. Gaara swallowed.

“Don't mind Neji,” Hinata whispered. “He always looks like that.”

“My son takes life far too seriously,” Hizashi agreed. “Tenten helps with that.”

“As do Lee and Gai,” Shokōko added.

“So how did you come to be here tonight?” Hizashi asked.

“I—I made an Ikebana arrangement for Lee's father on his behalf.”

“Ah, yes, Hinata was telling us your shop's unique business model. Ikebana is a beautiful art.”

“Do you practice?”

“I do. Gai and I used to compete against each other over who could make the most interesting pieces.” Hizashi smiled fainlty, the edges of it hinting at nostalgia.

Behind him, he heard his brother's familiar drawl. “—no idea he was gonna be here. Look, why don't you go talk to him?”

“There is no time. The banquet is about to start,” Lee said.

“All right, then what's the problem? You're over there, he's over here.”

“Fine,” Lee said with a huff.

Gaara risked glancing over his shoulder, watching as Lee marched through the crowd and back up to the main table.

“Hey, kid,” Kankurō greeted. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Hi.” Gaara barely glanced at his brother, watching Lee with bated breath. Lee didn't so much as look at him.

“You not plannin' on drinkin' yourself under the table again over him, are you?”

Gaara snorted, finally tearing his gaze from Lee. “No.”

“Good. So, I see you met Hinata's family.”

“I have.”

“Sit down, why don't ya? Lee said it's about to start.”

At the head table, the sound of a glass being tapped echoed around the room.

“Please, everyone, sit, sit!” an old man said. He had the same booming voice as Lee and, though most of his hair was gray, it was streaked black and in a similar style to Lee and Gai's. The mustache on his face set him apart from the others, but the family resemblance was striking. “We'd like to begin the evening by first thanking you all for coming. My son, Maito Gai, has become a pillar of this community and this discipline for many years, and it is heartwarming to see so many faces—many of which are familiar to me as old students of mine!

“Tonight, I hope you will all join me in thanking Gai for his dedication to this art, and to you and your families.” The old man held up a glass, and everyone followed suit. “Now, dig in and enjoy the presentations!”

Around the room, everyone began eating as music began to play and a troupe of children dressed in their Shaolin Kung Fu best marched out.

The performance was an incredible display of skill and speed that distracted Gaara from his nerves and kept him from staring at Lee. 

“Damn, wish I could move like that,” Kankurō said, watching the performance.

“Hinata, do you still practice?” Hizashi asked.

“N-no, Uncle,” Hinata said softly. “I-I was never that good.”

“I always said you weren't suited for it. Your sister was quite skilled though.”

“She is,” Hinata agreed. “She still practices.”

As the performance finished, applauds echoed around the space, drowning out conversation. At the head table, Gaara could see Gai crying and the masked man at his side patting his arm. The old man, who could only be Gai's father, was also crying.

A moment later, another group appeared, this time older and carrying weapons.

“Oh, shit,” Kankurō gasped, leaning forward in his seat. “Now that's what I wanna be able to do.”

“It takes years of discipline,” Hizashi said. “But it's never too late to start.”

The night sped by in a haze of different showcases and music, of laughter and idle chatter. Kankurō, somehow, had made a good impression on Hinata's aunt and uncle, and when the dinner proper had ended and just before the speeches, even Neji came over to speak with him.

Gaara was left on the outskirts of conversation, ignored by Neji and thus by everyone else, including his brother.

“—imagine Hinata on a stage.”

Kankurō chuckled, wrapping his arm around Hinata. “She did a good job. I was impressed, cause she kept sayin' she was too nervous."

“It was fun,” Hinata said. “I don't think I'll do it again, but I liked it.”

“You were great.” Kankurō bopped her nose affectionately, the gesture so unlike him Gaara couldn't help but stare.

“Excuse me,” he said, rising from his seat. Neji's cold gaze snapped to Gaara, but that was the only acknowledgment he received as he excused himself from the table.

Outside, the fresh air was a relief from the stifling Kwoon. It was so crowded with people, and the noise was starting to fray his nerves now that he lacked the distracting performances. He checked his phone for the time. Under normal circumstances, he might not have cared about the crowds or the noise, but the wait was killing him. All he wanted was to talk to Lee.

“Hullo.” Summoned by his thoughts, Lee's voice washed over him, a balm to a wound he hadn't realized was open until just that moment.

“Hi.” Gaara couldn't bring himself to look at Lee, not yet.

“I did not expect to see you here tonight.”

“I'm sorry if you didn't want me to come.”

Lee stepped closer, the warmth from his arm radiating off of him like sun-baked sand. “My father loved the arrangement.”

“You gave it to him already?”

“I did. He was very touched. He said it was an incredibly thoughtful piece and that whoever made it was a kind soul.”

Gaara wanted to laugh at the irony of Gai's words when compared to how he'd treated Lee, but his heart was lodged in his throat. He swallowed heavily, forcing it back down. “Be sure to tell him I say thank you.”

“I could introduce you.”

Gaara wasn't sure if he was ready for that, not when things were still so uncertain between them. “I spoke with Tenten last night. When I brought your father's gift."

“Oh? She did not tell me that.”

“I—” Gaara steeled himself. “After the banquet, can I—do you want to come back to the shop with me? I was hoping I could—we could talk.” 

“We are talking now.”

Lee wasn't going to make this easy on him. “I have something to show you.”

Within the Kwoon, music swelled suddenly, announcing the start of the speeches.

“Is it important?” Lee asked, his dark eyes rooted on Gaara's face.

Gaara held still, like a deer caught in headlights. “It is.”

“Then I shall meet you after the banquet.”

Gaara breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

He followed Lee back inside, and they parted ways without a word, though Gaara was sure he felt Lee's eyes on him as he wound his way back to his table. He turned, trying to catch Lee's black gaze, but Lee was already looking away.

“I know speeches are no one's favorite thing,” Gai's father began, “but please bear with me as I tell you about my amazing son and what an honor it has been to be his father...”

The speech lasted forty minutes and by the end of it, there was not a dry eye in the entire Kwoon. Even Kankurō had teared up, though he did his best to hide this fact by claiming repeatedly in hushed tones that he simply had something in his eye.

Throughout the long speech, though Gaara listened with rapt attention, he found his gaze wandering to Lee, and more often than not, Lee was already looking at him. Though he quickly looked away, Gaara wasn't fooled—at least, not anymore.

The evening finished off with a final toast and a special gift to Gai from his many students, both past and present. Though everyone had shed tears that night, none had shed quite as many as Maito Gai himself, though Lee had been a strong contender.

As the guests began to trickle out of the Kwoon, Gaara waited in his seat, feeling as though a spotlight had suddenly been shone on him. At the head of the table, everyone was watching Lee as he rose from his seat and made his excuses.

The five pairs of eyes at the head of the table all turned to stare at him.

“Uh oh,” Kankurō muttered in his ear. “Looks like Bowl-Cut's comin' this way. Maybe you wanna head out?”

“No,” Gaara said, a bit more breathless than he'd meant to. “Lee and I are going to talk.”

“All right, your funeral.” Kankurō returned to Hinata's side, following after her as she and her family made their way up to the head table.

Gaara got to his feet, smoothing down his blazer nervously as Lee approached.

“I promised my father I would only be a short while,” Lee told him immediately, his tone brokering no nonsense.

“It won't take long.” Gaara's carefully laid plan felt as though it was falling apart right before his eyes. He only hoped that once Lee got to the shop, his attitude would change. “Let's go.” 

The walk to Nine Petals wasn't long, but it felt as though it lasted an eternity. Lee walked stiffly beside him, his expression strange and uncharacteristically stern. Gaara wanted to walk closer, close enough that maybe their hands would brush, but the look on Lee's face made him keep his distance.

As the silence stretched between them, with the only sound that of their shoes on the pavement and the noise still coming from the Kwoon at their backs, Gaara began to doubt his plan. By the time he reached the door of his shop, his hands were clamy and shaking, making his keys jangle noisly as he pulled them from his pocket and unlocked the door.

In the shadows of the shop, he could make out the vase of overflowing mimosa and shepherd's purse on the counter, waiting for Lee.

“Come in,” he said quietly, his heart beating so fast he thought he must be having a heart-attack.

“It feels strange to be here so late. I almost feel like I am breaking in.”

Gaara couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped him, and he reached for Lee as he entered the shop, grabbing his hand in a tentative grasp. Lee stopped short, staring down at their joined hands. Gaara let the door close behind him.

“I—” In the office the angry beeping of the alarm system counting down caught his attention, interrupting the moment. “Shit. The alarm.”

He raced into his office, practically slamming into the door as he rushed to shut off the alarm before it started blaring. That was just what he needed to ruin the mood of what was meant to be a romantic confession. Finally, he breathed a sigh of relief as the alarm system went quiet.

“Lee?”

“Yes?”

“Just—stay right there.”

Gaara flicked a switch in his office, turning on the light just above the counter, watching Lee intently. As the lights came on, illuminating the overflowing vase, Lee's eyes went wide. He took a step back, then stepped forward, shaking his head.

“That is—” The tears Gaara had seen in his eyes earlier that night returned, streaming down his face like tiny rivers. “But—”

Gaara made his way from the office to stand before Lee, his skin tingling and his face hot. “I got your message... finally.”

Lee didn't seem to be able to take his eyes off of the flowers, but the look in his eyes was everything Gaara had hoped it would be.

“I thought—I thought—” Lee was at a loss for words. 

“Lee.” Gaara stepped closer, carefully closing the distance between them. “I don't know what you thought, but I thought you were head over heels for Sakura. When you placed this order, I put it out of mind. I didn't want to fill it. So I didn't know what you were trying to say. Not until I spoke with Tenten last night.”

“Tenten,” Lee breathed, finally tearing his gaze away from the flowers. “She told you...”

“She helped me figure out what I should have figured out weeks ago. When did you stop liking Sakura?”

Lee shook his head, then shrugged. “I did not stop liking her per say. I just... started liking you more.”

“Oh.” Hot jealousy pricked at his skin, but he quickly quashed it. That was the sort of thing that led to drinking too much and saying stupid shit.

“I do not like her anymore, though,” Lee added. “I—I was so sad when you did not respond to my message, I stopped thinking about her completely. And now she is happy with Ino-san, and I—I would like very much to be happy with you.”

“So you'll forgive me for being a complete ass?”

Lee laughed, reaching out to tangle his fingers with Gaara's. “I could never stay mad at you.”

“Tenten could.” Gaara leaned closer, hoping to close the distance between them entirely.

“I will take care of her and Neji. And my father—”

Gaara groaned. “You told your father?”

“Well, it was difficult not to. He and I are very close, and he noticed that something was wrong with me right away.”

Gaara let his head fall against Lee's chest, cursing under his breath. “They're all going to hate me forever, aren't they?”

A strong arm wrapped around Gaara's back and a hand beneath his chin forced him to look up and meet Lee's gaze. “They may need some time, but I promise, when they see how happy I am, they will love you.”

Gaara allowed himself a small, tentative smile. “If I'm being honest, I really only need you to love me.”

The smile Lee graced him with made everything leading up to that moment worth it. All he needed was to see that perfect sunflower smile and to finally have the luxury of kissing it.

“So,” Gaara said, rising up on his toes until his mouth was hovering over Lee's. “It looks like your plan to use flower language worked after all.”

“I always knew it would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the style Jiyūka: (自由花;[23] "free flowers") is a free creative design. It is not confined to flowers; every material can be used. In the 20th century, with the advent of modernism, the three schools of ikebana partially gave way to what is commonly known in Japan as "Free Style".
> 
> Aside from Wikipedia, I used several books--including some very luck vintage Ikebana finds in a Japanese trinket shop. If you're interested, the books I used for reference are _The Essentials of Ikebana_ edited by Patricia Massy; _Ikebana: A Practical and Philosophical Guide to Japanese Flower Arrangement_ by Stella Coe; the vintage book I found was _Ikebana: The Art of Japanese Flower Arrangement--Ikenobo School_ by Tadao Yamamoto (there's no publishing date, but someone who previously owned this book did write the year 1961, so I assume this was probably published in the late 50s or early 60s); and finally, _A Victorian Flower Dictionary: The Language of Flowers Companion_ by Mandy Kirkby. 
> 
> A great online resource I used was [this incredible site on Hanakotoba.](https://hananokotoba.com/the-language-of-flowers/)

**Author's Note:**

> The title for this chapter, Rika, is a style of Ikebana: The Rikka (立花;[18] "standing flowers") style was developed as a Buddhist expression of the beauty of landscapes in nature. Key to this style are nine branches that represent elements of nature. One of rikka arrangement styles is called suna-no-mono (砂の物; sand arrangement).
> 
> For those unfamiliar with Ikebana: Ikebana (生け花, 活け花, "arranging flowers" or "making flowers alive") is the Japanese art of flower arrangement It is also known as Kadō (華道, "way of flowers"). The tradition dates back to the 7th century when floral offerings were made at altars.
> 
> A Gung Fu Kwoon is a Kung Fu studio--I realized my stupidity thanks to a_gay_poster's own flower shop au with the most recent chapter update (which I still haven't read because I'm terrible). I've even taken Kung Fu, but it never really registered with me that Gai would be _sifu_, so apart from feeling incredibly stupid, I also endeavored to do a quick bit of research. Ergo, a Kwoon as opposed to a dōjō.


End file.
